Our Solemn Hour
by sammysmissingshoe
Summary: Sammy was his little brother. Dean watched the kid die in front of his eyes too many times already. No way was he letting him go again. At least, not alone. Swan Song AU. Dean says yes to Michael, and everything changes. Ch 14: Meg and Sam leave to help Bobby, not realising that it's a trap. And Meg reveals a secret from her past. Hurt!Sam occurs.
1. In My Darkest Hours

AN: Inspired by a Tumblr post. (If y'all want to follow me, I can be found as Moosesmissingshoe) AU in which Sam and Dean both say yes. Let's see where this takes me from here. Story and chapter titles come from my new favourite song, Our Solemn Hour by Within Temptation.

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><p>Who cares how hot or cold the Devil burned? Dean didn't. All he cared about was if Sam would be able to overpower him. Before he said yes, Sam had drunk gallon after gallon after gallon of demon blood. He had asked Dean not to watch. Dean didn't need to be asked. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never let his brother turn into that again, but now? Now he was letting his brother, his <em>baby <em>brother say yes to Lucifer, and jump into Hell all because Dean had given up on him.

After he'd heard Sam's intentions, he'd reached for the amulet Sam had given him, forgetting and damning the fact that he had thrown it away. The amulet he wore proudly in Hell, the one thing that reminded him who he used to be. It hadn't been God or Cas he had lost faith in when he dropped that amulet in that trash can; it was Sam. He'd made sure Sam was watching him when he did it; he wanted Sam to know how he felt.

He thought that had severed any string of hope Sam was still desperately clinging onto, but when Dean was going to say yes, and Sam fought him tooth and nail about it, he knew that even though he had hurt Sam, it didn't stop him from believing in his big brother.

But then Sam just had to be the one to sacrifice himself. Dean couldn't stop him from saying yes, so he might as well be there for Sammy when he needed him, and that moment was right now.

Lucifer knew about the rings. There went the element of surprise, and Dean watched the confidence in Sam's eyes falter, but as scared, and yes, Sam was scared, Dean could tell, he could always tell, as Sam was, he didn't back down. His only slightly trembling voice still challenged Satan himself with that one three letter word.

"Yes."

A bright and pure light was not what Dean had been anticipating Lucifer's grace looking like, and he snapped his eyes shut against the burning glow of Lucifer's essence.

By the time he opened them again, Lucifer's previous and rotting vessel lay discarded on the cold cement floor. But what worried him, was that Sam was in the same state. Ignoring his fear for one moment, Dean pulled the rings from his pocket and tossed them to the wall. His hand shook, as did his voice as he recited the spell to open The Cage.

Cracking plaster and the floor rumbling were eventually drowned out as a monstrous hole in the wall began to form suction like a vacuum, like a black hole pulling in miscellaneous things about the room into the pit, the void before him.

"_I-I'm sending Sammy there…"_

Sam's pained groan took Dean's concerns on the now rather than what was to come, and he rushed to his brother's side. "Sammy!"

"Dean!" Sam's eyes were screwed shut with pain, and he groaned deep in his throat. "I can feel _him. _Oh, God!"

"_Please don't let the last time I hear him sound like this." _Dean pleaded in his head as he helped Sam to his feet. "Go now, Sammy." _"You gotta be the one to walk forward. I-I can't be the one to do this to you." _were the words unspoken.

Dean stood behind him, Sam's shoulders shaking and heaving with each shuddering breath. All of a sudden, he took one slow breath, and in that split second, Dean knew Sam had lost. He didn't even need the confirmation of Sam turning around and grinning at him.

"I was just messing with you." The voice was Sam's, but it was his Sammy anymore. The smile on "Sam's" face faded. "Sammy's long gone."

Those words froze Dean where he stood. It was over, Sam didn't beat Lucifer. Instinct screamed at Dean to charge his brother and shove him into the void himself, but he couldn't- wouldn't be the one to put Sam in hell, the place Dean still has nightmares about to this day. He could only watch as Sam- Lucifer- recited a string of Enochian, and the hole in the wall closed up. He reached with Sam's hands, and snagged the rings from the wall.

Lucifer gave Dean the same he look he'd received when he traveled to 2014, and the fact that he had Sam's face, Sam's mouth that used to show his dimples, Sam's eyes which used to be filled with some much hope, when he looked at him it sent tears prickling in Dean's eyes.

"I told you," Lucifer remarked. "This would always happen in Detroit."

And then he was gone, leaving Dean in the room with nothing but the knowledge of his own failure and loss. Unable to bear the thought of losing Sam, Dean dropped to his knees. The tears that had welled up began spilling loose and Dean was grateful for the solitude at the moment.

In that moment, he wasn't being his father's brave little solider, he didn't need to act strong for Sammy, he had no one to hide his emotions from, and Dean Winchester did something he didn't often do.

He cried.

Normally, his tears would fall with nothing more than an occasional break in his voice, but this time, he saw no point in holding back. His shoulders shook furiously from the force of his crying, his breaths were nothing more than wracked sobs, and he could feel his face reddening with anger at himself, hatred for all the angels and demons that believed they were winning right now. But despite all those feelings, he had but one sole thought;

"_Sammy, I'm so sorry."_

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><p>So. Much. Blood. The walls, the floors, Sam's hands. Do they even count as his anymore? Sure, he had willed himself to rip apart those demons, but was it really him doing all that? He hoped it wasn't. The <em>things <em>he did.

Lucifer allowed him control of his hands, Sam thought so, but that was all. Throughout the whole ordeal, Sam couldn't stop his lip curling upwards in a demented smile. A dark deep laughter was forced from his throat, one he hadn't heard his own voice make since he was possessed by Meg.

But he wasn't entirely possessed. Lucifer had allowed him some type of control, but Sam didn't feel that he had any. Lucifer assaulted his mind with memories or rage, vengeance, anger, and he channeled Sam's anger and took it out on every single demon in front of him.

Was Lucifer even telling the truth? Maybe these faces of Sam's past hadn't even been possessed when he knew them. This could all be a ploy by Lucifer to get Sam to unleash his fury with Lucifer's power, as though that would make him grateful, indebted to him.

If he was being honest, Lucifer's power felt _right _inside Sam. He didn't need demon blood surging through his veins; he had angelic grace flowing through him. It was- pure. Lucifer was called the Morning Star, and Sam felt his radiance pumping through his body with every beat of his heart.

Maybe this was the closest to Heaven Sam would ever get.

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><p>The image of that vacuuming black pit was permanently etched in Dean's head. As often as he continuously repressed those memories, he thinks back to his own time in Hell. The pain, the gut-wrenching solitude, the relentless feelings of abandonment and loneliness. He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, especially never his little brother.<p>

How could he have let Sam do this? Why would he do this _willingly? _Oh, because he already feels like he's damned himself anyway. He told Dean that this was the only way to stop the apocalypse, but he knew that some part of Sam believed that he deserved Hell.

Now what was left? Dean had nothing anymore. Nothing to lose; he'd already lost everything. He knew what he had to do to save Sam.

Dean was going to say "Yes."

There was no way he could tell Cas or Bobby. They'd simply try to talk him out of it. Or slam him up against an alley and beat him senseless again. Thanks for that, Cas.

Much to Bobby's dismay, Dean had gone off on his own. After hours of contemplating his options, he finally succumbed.

"Michael!" This was for Sam. "You hear me?" This was for Sam. "You win." This was for Sam. "I'm saying yes."

After a moment of hesitation, as though Michael wasn't sure he needed Dean anymore, light flooded him, grace and energy began coursing through his body. It was such an alien feeling, stranger than being drained by vampires, more wrong than demon possession, and it made him feel more distant from his own emotions than he had ever been before. Despite the loss of control over his own body, and Michael's own thought of rage and determination filling his mind, Dean still remembered one thing above all else.

This was for Sam.

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><p>If y'all know me, I hate dialogue. I'll be a lot more capable of doing more when I'm not writing at midnight till one in the morning. Sorry most of this was all stuff you know, but it's changing up, don't worry, I hope you're enjoying the changes so far, so let me know what you thought if y'all've got the time. See you soon!<p>

**Sneak Peek from Ch2: **He wondered if Lucifer even let Sam see what was happening around him, or if he just shoved Sam into a darkened corner of his own mind. Truthfully, Dean wasn't sure which one would have been worse.


	2. I Could Not Foresee

AN: Sorry for the wait for this chapter guys. I've been piled up with showchoir practice, and I wasn't feeling very confident about this story, but I think this new one has really redeemed my confidence! Only some dialogue is borrowed from the show, most of it is all original because I figure different circumstances, different stuff's gonna go down. AU for a reason.

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><p>Honestly, Dean was lucky he'd said yes. Had he not, heaven knows how long it would have taken him to find the chosen battlefield. If Dean believed in God, Dean bet He was laughing at all the irony of everything ending in Kansas, the same place it had all begun.<p>

Past all his thoughts of irony's cruel sense of humour, his thoughts went back to Sam. Michael tried to repress those thoughts, but his attention was more on his own needs, he didn't seem to really care about Dean, at least not enough to stop him.

It wasn't long before Sam, _"It's not Sam anymore, it's that monster wearing my brother." _appeared on the chosen field as well. Yet another irony of it being a graveyard, almost some kind of dark foreshadowing for all the people who were going to die if Dean failed.

Even in that state, Dean was finally relieved to see Sam again. He wondered if Lucifer even let Sam see what was happening around him, or if he just shoved Sam into a darkened corner of his own mind. Truthfully, Dean wasn't sure which one would have been worse. Who knows all the things Lucifer did with Sam's hands, maybe, no, screw maybe, Sam _definitely _wouldn't want to remember them.

When Sam started to speak, Dean knew that they weren't his words. "Michael."

"Lucifer." The word slipped off his tongue, feeling so foreign, since he had no control over it.

Eyeing Dean, Lucifer commented, "I see Dean finally consented."

"It was his destiny." Dean would have rolled his eyes at 'destiny' if he could have. "As is this."

Sam's- Lucifer's face looked almost regretful for a moment. "It does not have to be."

Dean felt his head tilt, and his eyebrows raise in doubt. "Our Father has commanded-"

"Where is He, Michael? If this is truly what He wants, why is He not here to see it done?"

"We've known since the beginning of this Earth that this was always how it was meant to end."

"How can you be so blind, brother? Look at my vessel. Sam was willing to risk everything to avoid this from happening." He gestured to Dean. "Clearly, he was not successful, but he was willing to give up everything to ignore what 'our Father has commanded.' Why can you not do the same?"

"You rebelled, Lucifer. You corrupted man; you are the reason that they were damned." Michael argued.

"They chose the wrong path; I merely showed them the option. Our Father knew what would happen when He cast me out. God wanted the Devil."

"No, Lucifer. You disobeyed, and you knew the consequences. This is how it must be."

Lucifer straightened Sam's body, knowing disappointment gleaming in Sam's eyes. "So be it."

Michael swung the first fist; Dean felt his knuckles crack against Sa- Lucifer's jaw, although the crack may have been from Sam. _"Lucifer, dammit."_ In the midst of all this, Dean still couldn't help but only see Sam's head fly back in pain with a grunt. It didn't feel like he was fighting the Devil.

The ground shook beneath them, like an earthquake. No, wait, it really was an earthquake. Having an archangel inside you apparently heightened the rage, and what followed it.

Recovering quickly, Lucifer lunged at Dean, clearly using Sam's memories of sparring and training in order to fight back. Lucifer threw a punch and when it collided with Dean's face, Dean saw the image of Yellowstone Park exploding. Looks like Lucifer's anger had the same affects.

Michael leapt back up to his feet, attempting to sweep Lucifer's legs out from under him, but Lucifer easily dodged, and tackled Michael to the ground.

Again and again, he rammed his fist into Michael face, no longer using Sam's tactic oriented skills; just pure fury was controlling him.

Even though it wasn't his body at the moment, Dean could still feel every hit, every snap of bone, and he heard every single one of Michael's thoughts of remorse at knowing that everything would end with either him or his brother dead.

Michael was an angel; Dean was not.

As much as Michael tried to continuously heal himself blow after blow, Dean couldn't take much more. Sure, Michael riding him would keep him alive, but that would be it. One or two more hits and Dean wouldn't be surviving this, no matter who won.

Another punch, and Dean knew the next one would be his last. Lucifer raised his hand into a fist, but then something strange and unexpected happened.

Michael let go.

Dean sucked in a breath, and he could feel all the pain ignite anew now that he had complete control. Through broken teeth and a bloodied mouth, Dean said the one thing he'd been wishing he could this whole time.

"S-Sammy…"

Something changed in Lucifer's eyes. With his fist still raised, Lucifer cocked his head to the side, and then his eyebrows scrunched together as though he was- reconsidering? No, that couldn't be it. Did- did it mean Sam was fighting back?

Dean saw Sam's fist start to unclench, and the anger in his eyes wavered. After a moment, Sam- yes, _Sam_- gasped and stepped back, breathing out one word.

"Dean." He smiled.

Before Dean had the chance to respond, Michael resumed control, and pounced on Sam. Dean had never seen so much hurt and betrayal in Sam's eyes until then.

No longer able to control himself, Dean watched Michael nail Sam in the jaw, snapping his head to the side, quickly followed by another hit.

Although Dean hated to admit it, Michael was clever. In the split moment he had let Dean take the wheel, knowing Dean would call out to Sam, he knew it had given Sam the willpower to conquer Lucifer. But now that Sam was the one in charge, Michael immediately took back over, assuming that Sam wouldn't fight back. And you know what sucked the most? He was right.

Sam made no attempt to defend himself. Between punches he'd call out to Dean hoping he'd be able to reach him, but Michael's blows raining down on him were the only answer he received.

Sam's face eventually went to the same state as Dean's was before Michael regained enough strength to heal it. Both Sam's eyes were nearly swollen shut, his nose broken in at least two different places, cheekbones too probably, and yet all Sam did in response to each hit was say Dean's name again and again, but they came out as nothing more than pained moans. His pathetic attempt to speak broke Dean's heart.

"I-it's o-'k-'kay, big bro-th-ther." Another punch, and Sam's head flew to the side again with a whimper, a freaking whimper. "I st-still belie-eve in you." An elbow to his already broken cheekbone made him cry out in pain. "I- 'm not goin' 'nywhere." His eyes that had glazed over with agony still had hope glimmering in them, even when Michael landed another punch directly to them. Sam sobbed for a moment, nearly gone when he added, "N-not gonna le-leave you… C-cuz you c-couldn't 'ver leave m-me…"

As Sam's eyes started to drift shut, Dean's mind flooded with memories, the _pain _of losing Sam over and over again. He'd sworn that he'd never let him go again, and he meant it. Dean fought and he fought, and he pushed and pushed Michael down until finally, he was free. Almost disbelievingly, Dean flexed his fingers at his own accord, and he let out a breathy laugh.

They'd done it; they had won.

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><p>If you wish things to end on a sort of almost happy note, this would be it. I've got plans for future chapters, but they are not very kind to our beloved boys. Again, sorry for the wait, but I'll try to have the next one up sooner. I've got a showchoir competition coming up this week though, and I'll have no internet, so I'm not sure if I'll get the next chapter up before I leave. Lemme know what y'all though, and I hope to see you soon!<p> 


	3. That the Tide Could Turn

AN: Okay, so… Y'all probably noticed that it took me forever to get this up, but that's cuz I had my first show-choir competition this weekend, which we got 2nd place in by the way. Anywho, that's why this took so long, and also because my attention span. Whoops. Okay, and just so you know, this story gets dark. If you think this chapter is bad, you ain't gonna like where it goes later. No happy ending here, guys.

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><p>Complete and utter awe were all Dean felt towards Sam at that moment. How could he possibly vertical right now? His face steadily continued dripping blood, and yet he still had the willpower to reach into his pocket, and pull out the horseman's rings. His voice cracked helplessly as he uttered the spell to open Lucifer's cage.<p>

The ground opened up with a collapse of a patch of grass, looking like a ravenous monster's mouth preparing to consume its prey. Sam stared down into the seemingly endless pit at his and Dean's feet. One simple action would mean their deaths, no end, and no rest if they jumped.

He heard Dean's voice call out to him over the sounds of the harsh winds. "You ready?"

Sam wanted to smile, as some last futile effort to comfort his brother, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, and it wasn't just because of all his shattered teeth and broken bones. "Not really." He answered back.

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder, his eyes filled with acceptance to their fate. "Together?"

Sam nodded; he wouldn't have had it any other way. He placed his hand on top of Dean's. "Together."

And then they both jumped.

Falling was the easy part, almost serene as Dean saw nothing but unending black, but Michael's screaming inside his head ruined to moment a bit though. To say he was furious was an understatement. The whole time as they were falling, Michael was promising all sorts of unimaginable pain that Dean would feel once they landed. Dean would be lying is he said he wasn't scared when he did land. Following suit, Sam landed beside him with a _thud. _

Michael was at least gentle when he left Dean, most likely because he was in more of a haste to get back at Dean for what he had done. Sam on the other hand… Lucifer must have been even angrier than Michael; he ripped himself out of Sam.

It started with Sam coughing, but it was violent. He couldn't even draw in enough air between each cough, and blood eventually began dribbling past his lips, along with Lucifer's grace. Dean ran over to him, watching Sam's back arch again and again, like that of a cat about to cough up a hairball.

Before Dean could reach Sam, something snaked around his body, and then constricted all the air out of him, binding him tightly.

All Dean heard was a metallic whine, but some part of his brain translated it as, "No. You're going to watch this, knowing that you won't be able to stop it; knowing you won't be able to save your brother."

Dean yanked on his- chains? Ropes? Whatever was holding him captive, he tugged against them with all his might, but he could never possibly match the strength of an archangel, so his efforts were proving to be fruitless.

Sam may not have been able to breath, but he could sure as hell _scream. _What made it even worse was how it didn't even seem like he was trying to hold back the sound. The few times Dean had ever heard Sam scream, he had been shielding most of the pain. But now? Now Dean was being forced to listen to Sam's retching and screaming, with no hopes of making the pain go away. It was even worse when Sam managed to form words.

"D-Dean!" he cried miserably. "Help me!" He could barely choke out the words; he was too busy choking on his own blood.

At that moment, Dean didn't care how pathetic he sounded. "Dammit, Michael, I'm the one you're mad at! Let me save Sam, and you can have me!"

Another high pitched whine was his only response, but this time his brain didn't, or couldn't translate it as anything besides a shriek of pure rage. Dean went to cover his ears, but his arms were held firm at his sides, and he felt blood begin to trickle out of his eyes, and ears. Cas's words about an angel's true voice came to mind as an explanation for why it was happening.

Eye sockets sizzling, his head ringing with burning intensity, but in spite of all that, the worst pain was knowing that Sam was in just as much pain as he was, if not more.

Not being able to see exactly what was happening to Sam was an entirely different kind of torture, and Michael knew it. If he wanted Dean in agony, Sam was the one who had to suffer, and Dean hated that everyone knew it.

Darkness finally closed in on Dean, but he wasn't dead, nor was he unconscious. He was blind. He wasn't able to move, but if he could, he was sure he would have been able to feel the absence of his eyeballs, just like Pamela had when she gazed upon Castiel's true form.

Up to this point, Sam had only been screaming, but then Dean heard a wet crunch and a loud snap, followed by Sam wailing in complete and utter agony. Forget anything Dean had thought earlier; this was far worse than before. Sam doesn't wail; that went against the Winchester rule about never letting on how much you're hurting, usually mentally, but physically too. God, what was Lucifer doing to him?

Hell wasn't a new thing to Dean, at least the loneliness of it wasn't, but that's what made this all so wrong; he wasn't alone. Sam was here with him, and that made everything so much worse.

During his first time in Hell, they tried to use Sam's image to break him. Sometimes Sam would be the one being tortured beside him, other times he was the one torturing Dean, but Dean knew it wasn't Sam; at least not then. This time he didn't have any other choice but to believe it.

Michael had allowed Dean his hearing, but he had absolutely no gratitude for that fact. Sam's piercing shrieks cut Dean deeper than any knife or blade ever could. Damn Michael for knowing his weakness.

"Dean!" Sam sobbed. "Pl-please! H-help!"

That went on for far too long; Sam would cry out Dean's name, pleading for help. Dean remembered when he used to call out for Sam when he was in Hell, before he'd lost all hope. Dean knew better now, there is never any hope in Hell. Never.

Throughout all this, Sam had yet to beg the Devil, but in a sudden and panicked voice, Dean heard his brother break for the first time.

"D-don't. N-not that! Please! No, no pl-please, don-" The word cut off with a guttural scream of raw agony.

In that moment, Dean was glad he couldn't see.

Apparently, Michael decided that Dean wasn't occupied well enough, and hurled him to the floor… Or ground. Did the Cage have a floor? Whether it did or not, Dean crashed into something hard beneath him, and then felt himself being flung onto a- O-oh, God no…

A rack. _The _rack. The one he practically lived on for thirty years. He broke last time; he was not looking forward to having to go through all that again. Maybe he won't break this time. He-he could do it, right? But… for how long? No one was going to save him; he and Sam were going to stay trapped with Michael and Satan himself for the rest of eternity.

Welcome to Day One in Hell.

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><p>Castiel may have made a promise to not try and rescue Sam, and watch out for Dean, but that plan went to Hell. Literally. Dean just had to sacrifice himself and be noble once more. The worst part of it was that it honestly didn't even surprise Castiel that much. Dean always seemed to be more selfless that Sam. Some part of Castiel was just hoping that maybe, just this once, that Dean wouldn't have to the hero. Wishful thinking wasn't just a thing for humans apparently.<p>

Now that Michael and Lucifer were caged, Heaven had fallen to shambles. There was a mad scramble for power, and Castiel simply wanted for it to end. But he wanted- _needed _the Winchesters back at his side again to accomplish it. He didn't like how he was planning on getting them back, but he was out of options.

It was a very odd sight to behold; an angel summoning a demon. Castiel waited a moment, and then he heard the familiar accented voice greet him.

"Castiel; the angel of Thursday. Miss me already?"

"Crowley." Castiel answered in response. "I assume now that Lucifer is gone that someone else had taken the throne. And I assume it was you."

With a bow of mock humility, Crowley concurred. "You are indeed in the presence of a King. I ought to get myself a crown."

Not at all in the mood for Crowley's antics, Castiel got right to the point. "You need to release the Winchesters."

"Can't." Was Crowley's quick reply.

Castiel felt his fists clench. "Why not?"

"I may be the King, but that door's long closed now. Sock hanging on the knob and everything. But, I can offer you help in another matter."

If Castiel had learned anything from watching the Winchesters, it was that you don't ever side with a demon. Then again, they weren't exactly there to castigate him for it. "What are you talking about?"

"If Hell's in chaos, I imagine Heaven isn't fairing too well either. Am I right?" Crowley paused, not getting, but not really needing the confirmation. "Thought so. Now, if you want the fighting to end, which I assume you do, you're going to need power, and if you're going to have power, you'll be needing something I happen to have an abundance of."

"What?"

Crowley grinned. "Souls."

That definitely would have gotten an immediate "No" from the Winchesters, but again, Castiel reminded himself that they weren't around to talk him out of it. He missed them both so much. Maybe with all that new power, he'd be able to rescue them himself. That's what he was going to do. He wasn't doing this for himself; it was for the Winchesters.

At least, that was how it began.

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><p>Okay so as of right now, I'm not sure whether or not I'm going to give Castiel more importance later in this story or not, but I felt the need to at least let him continue where the show would have gone in season six. Drop a review if y'all have got time, and I will try a lot harder to not make you wait this long for the next chapter. See y'all soon!<p> 


	4. So Fast to This Degree

AN: **Warning: **Lotta graphic violence and torture for both the Winchesters in this chapter so… Yeah, sorry about that. This was originally gonna be just kinda plotless torture, but a horrific plot bunny snuck in at the end. I shouldn't be allowed to say plot bunny, I don't really know what that is. Enough rambling, here's the chapter!

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><p>Years turned to decades, decades faded to centuries, and every single second was filled with torturous agony. The only sounds were Sam and Dean's screams, constantly unending and never ceasing. Sam's voice would break as he cried out for his brother, but Dean knew better than to hope for help. He just screamed.<p>

When Sam sobbed for Dean as Lucifer dislocated every one of his joints, Dean just muttered broken apologies under his breath. When Sam pleaded with Satan to stop as he tore Sam open and force fed him his own intestines, Dean just turned his head away, focusing on his own pain in hopes of blocking out Sam's.

Michael was playing his cards well. Sam's constant pleas for help slowly began driving Dean to the brink of insanity. But more often than not, it seemed like Dean wished Sam would just _shut up _rather than stop suffering. When Sam broke, he simply turned into a quivering mess. But Dean just started becoming more hateful and angry about everything that had happened to him. Maybe Michael would be able to use this to his advantage.

"Dean," Michael whispered lowly, his mouth right beside the bloody and torn face, absent of its tongue and eyes. Even without them, Dean's face still portrayed instant terror at the sound of Michael's voice. "Do you tire of all this yet? Do you wish for it to stop?"

Taunting him even further, Michael was currently in the visage of Dean's father, the younger version of him; the one before Sam was born, therefore ruining any chance his family had at normality. Dean would say, "Damn him" but it would probably be unnecessary at this point.

Ribs splintered with a snap of Michael's fingers, drawing a tortured cry from Dean's skinless lips. He really didn't appreciate being ignored. "I asked you a question, Dean. Answer it."

With no tongue or teeth to form the words, Dean simply nodded frantically, desperate to spare himself of any more of this agony.

Using John's mouth, even though Dean couldn't see it, Michael smiled wide and victoriously. With another snap, Dean fell from the rack, catching himself with his broken fingers. Slowly, Dean's wounds and broken bones began mending themselves, and what felt like the first time in forever, he stood up. Michael usually broke his legs before he ever had the chance; why was he letting him stand now?

Don't get them wrong, Michael and Lucifer still abhor one another, but now they shared their common goal of making the Winchesters suffer for the rest of eternity. They had an arrangement where they would occasionally switch toys or team up on one while the other was forced to watch. Isn't it nice when brothers finally get along?

Just as Lucifer was finishing up meticulously removing Sam's femur bone, Michael whispered in his ear. Lucifer's Cheshire cat grin crept up one side of his face, and he still loomed over the trembling and terrified Sam, gagged by a leather strap and tied down to the extreme. Lucifer liked to overdo it sometimes, simply because he could, and Sam's inferiority to him was something Sam needed to be consistently reminded of. Lucifer eyed Sam, considering him for a moment. He tapped his fingers against his lips, relishing in how waves of anticipation of pain radiated off Sam.

Finally, he made a decision. "I've still got a few minutes here." He smiled again when Sam's eyes widened in panic, and he yanked uselessly against the straps that held him down. "Hold tight, Sammy. Someone else will be with you momentarily." With that, he plunged his hand back into the gaping wound on Sam's leg, carefully wriggling the bone out; the sound of squelching flesh and blood sloshing against Lucifer's skin were completely inaudible, drowned out by Sam's muffled, agonized screaming.

Still in shock from the actual _break _from the torture had left Dean completely frozen. The desperate cries of his brother had been going on for too long to even surprise Dean anymore. It was simply white noise; he'd grown to ignore it, even become nothing but annoyed by it. Dean was constantly in pain too, but he at least had the decency not to guilt Sam by crying out for him. What exactly was Sam expecting for him to do? Break free from the rack, kill Michael and Lucifer, get Sam loose and give him a nice brotherly hug? Get over it, Sam, no one's leaving. Ever.

An arm suddenly wrapped around Dean's shoulders, and Dean couldn't stop the flinch. The arm belonged to Michael, and he was smiling at Dean. Not the way he would if he had been skinning Dean alive (again), but a smile as though he and Dean were old friends. If Dean had any sense of humour left, he might have laughed at the irony.

"Are you ready for your chance to be free of the rack?"

Was-Was Michael going to let Dean speak? Almost cautiously, Dean answered, "Y-Yes." It had been the first time Dean had been able to open his mouth without something being shoved inside, or that a scream slash blood didn't come out.

Michael tapped Dean's shoulder encouragingly and guided him over towards- Lucifer, and Dean shuddered. Sure, Michael tortured Dean _plenty, _but he was careless and vicious about it. Lucifer was s-l-o-w. He took his time as he dug out Dean's eyes, or snapped his bones, one by one. Michael always had his teeth bared in a snarl as he tore into Dean, but Lucifer? Lucifer occasionally let his tongue peek past his lips in concentration as he sliced open Dean's ribcage, carefully picking apart as many organs as he could before Dean died from blood loss. His record was far too high for Dean to want to ever recall. Lucifer's nonchalance about everything was its own torture method. His apathy towards pain just made it hurt so much worse.

"Don't be afraid, Deanie-boy." Lucifer noted at Dean's obvious discomfort. "I'm not gonna hurt you, you've earned yourself a treat today, buddy," He stepped aside, revealing Sam, still tied down, organs displayed delicately like artifacts at a museum, his breaths fast and shallow. Dean remembered how it felt to be exposed like that; the cold of Lucifer's touch or hot flames of Hell brushing inside places they should never go. Dean had seen that sight too many times for him to be affected but it once more, even though it was his _baby brother _on that rack.

When a knife was placed in Dean's hands, he knew what they wanted from him.

They wanted him to torture Sam.

"Oh," Lucifer giggled. "Silly me. You probably want a clean canvas, don't you, big guy?" Dean watched, unaffected that the Devil had just called his brother a canvas, as Lucifer waved a hand, and Sam bucked up with panting breaths as his body began to heal; but the fear in his eyes did not waver.

He croaked out a word behind the gag, but even muffled and shaking with dread, it was still understood as, "Dean?"

Something snapped in Dean, and for once, it wasn't bone. Sam was always so damn _weak! _Dean always had to be the one to save him, to die for him, to go to Hell for him! Well… Dean had finally had enough of that. If Sam was so willing to put himself through Hell, then Dean would gladly show him what that meant.

Searching deep into his mind for the thoughts he had forgotten, for the methods he had long since forced into the back of his head, Dean looked down at Sam, and he smiled. And he didn't miss the frightened whimper Sam made when he saw Dean's expression.

"Look on the bright side, Sammy;" Dean picked up a scalpel, letting the flames of Hell gleam off the silver. He checked the tip, pricking his finger until a steady trickle of blood ran down his hand. "At least it's not the Devil."

And then he started carving.

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><p>Okay… So… I did warn you. I don't even know why I did this. Oh yeah, because I'm a monster. See? At least I know it. And I know Dean would never hurt Sam in real life, but the guy's been spending centuries in Hell, I imagine he'd get pissed eventually. As long as you don't send me virtual weapons in an attempt to kill me for what I did here, I'd still love for y'all to review, and I'll have more up ASAP!<p> 


	5. Can't Believe My Eyes

AN: So, I've been kind of slow on updates with this story, and I apologize for that. But as a reader, one thing I cannot stand if authors are purposefully holding back chapters just for the sake of getting more reviews. I don't care if I get one review per chapter; I will post for that one person! I will never hold back chapters because I've decided that what you guys give isn't enough. Threatening readers is a dishonest way to get reviews, and I have far too much respect for my readers to ever do that to you. When I see an author doing that, not matter how good their story is, I instantly lose all respect for them. Okay, now that that's out of the way, here's the fifth chapter!

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><p>Souls of Heaven and Hell weren't enough to satiate Castiel's lust for power, he needed far more. He often wondered if this was how Sam felt back when he was on demon blood. This wasn't the same, he told himself. He thought he could handle it. He wasn't downing the blood of the damned; just their souls. And he had told Crowley that he was only to be given human souls, not those that were turning into demons. He just had to trust Crowley for that.<p>

Then again, what did it matter if the souls weren't human? Clearly, it wasn't getting the job done in the way he was hoping. Maybe other souls were exactly what he needed.

Often times, Castiel would look at a human, and all he would see was their souls. Some were darker than others, some were more broken, but all in all, Castiel missed seeing humans the way his Father intended him to; beautiful creatures, as corrupted as they were, they were still God's creations, and they were born with the divine right to die and go to Heaven or Hell. They weren't meant to be consumed by an angel in a desperate grab for power, even though it was for a "righteous cause."

So many of his brothers had lost their way by doing what the believed to be righteous, but Castiel was positive that he wouldn't fall prey to the same fate. He was stronger than them.

Oddly though, he still wasn't strong enough. Crowley must have been holding out on him, because Castiel was still nowhere near where he needed to be in order to have the power to pull Sam and Dean from the cage. Unfortunately, Castiel had thought of another option; one he would have to consult his, and it pained him to call Crowley this, business partner.

"Craving another hit already?" Was Crowley's greeting as he appeared behind Castiel. "Or do you just miss me?"

"I have come to the conclusion that I do not have enough souls to achieve what I was hoping."

Crowley snorted like a pig in answer to Castiel's greed. Castiel was far less than amused. "What do you want me to do about it? Not like I've got spare souls lying about. Would you like me to check in the back?" He rolled his eyes with annoyance.

"I have thought of a place where we may be able to find more."

"Well. Do tell."

"Purgatory."

One of Crowley's eyebrows rose in doubt. "Purgatory? Where the souls of monsters go?"

Castiel just nodded.

"You think I know where it is?"

"I know where to find something that will. All you have to do is get it to tell you."

A grin only Crowley could pull off crept onto his lips. "Dear, little, precious Castiel, is asking me, the King of Hell, to torture answers out of monster to satiate his desire for power?"

"Do we have a deal or not, Crowley?" Castiel practically hissed.

"Hold on, let me relish in this a bit longer."

"Crowley…" Castiel warned.

"Fine, fine." Crowley chuckled. Really, this angel was easier to play than a triangle. "Now then, go find me my monster. Do aim high on the food chain."

Once more, Castiel narrowed his eyes at Crowley, before vanishing. He was already too far gone to feel regret.

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><p>"That's it, Sammy. We're taking it nice… and slow." Dean cooed as he slid his hand into Sam's chest cavity, his blood helping ease Dean's hand past muscle and organs. His other hand pressed down on Sam's bucking and heaving body to steady his incessant thrashing. "Shh, shh, shh." Dean withdrew his hand, and began carding it through Sam's hair; it began clumping together with his own blood, while Dean's hush did nothing for Sam's nerves.<p>

Nerves were just so touchy, weren't they? Dean had forgotten just how sensitive they were. Just one little prick with a scalpel, and he had Sam writhing and wailing beneath him, his cries still nearly mute under the leather gag.

"Dmmph!" Sam's attempt to scream Dean's name was the only remotely comprehendible sound he seemed to be capable of making. His voice cracked, his agony made clear by his pained cries. He didn't try and choke out the word for Dean to know he was wondering. "Why?"

"Because, Sammy," Dean answered to the asking silence. "You need to learn to be a man. I stepped up in Hell last time. Sure, it took some convincing, but I learned to accept the inevitable. You can join me, little brother." Dean leaned down so he was right by Sam's ear, his mouth dangerously close, his breath as hot as the flames of Hell itself. "Grab a blade, and shove it down Lucifer's throat. You know he deserves it. Think about _alllll_ the things he's done to you."

Sam's eyes stayed wide and fearful. He would be lying if he said he didn't want Lucifer to pay, but Sam wouldn't- couldn't- be the one to do it. He no longer felt anger towards Lucifer, only terror. Lucifer had well drilled into his brain that Sam was the epitome of the bitch in their relationship. It's not something he would confess topside, but he'd long since given up on ever being free from Lucifer's eternal leash.

The sensation of Dean tickling the _underside _of his ribs caused him to jerk against his bonds again with a strangled shriek. The terrifying wrongness of it was probably worse than the actual pain.

"You still ticklish, little brother?" Dean wiggled his fingers some more, grinning at Sam's garbled sobs, accompanied by his back arching ferociously. Dean chuckled darkly. "C'mon, tiger. Take the offer."

God, Sam wanted to, but he just couldn't bring himself to side with this twisted and broken mockery of his brother, so he could only shake his head.

Almost disappointedly, Dean sighed. "Can't say I'm surprised." He shoved his hand elbow deep into the now gushing hole in Sam's chest until he blood-slicked fingers brushed against Sam's frantically beating heart. "Takes someone strong to accept this side of themselves. Gotta have guts. Not that you don't have any; they're just all over my shoes is all. Anyway, I gotta ask, Sammy," His fingers tightened with excruciating precision, a calm smile overpowering the hungry look in Dean's eyes. "Do you think I'm strong?"

Bile and blood rose in Sam's throat; with no hopes of forcing it back down, it rushed up to his mouth, but the gag prevented it from passing. The mixture fought the gag, small dribbles managed to break free and run down Sam's face, but most of it trickled into his nose. The horrendous stench only intensified Sam's need to hurl, and more blood and vomit spilled past the gag, but he was still suffocating on the majority of it.

At least this time it wasn't going to be a mystery as to how he was going to die; he knew he was going to choke to death on his own blood. And it was because of his brother. This was definitely a new one.

Dean watched Sam's body seize beneath him as his lungs were continuously denied oxygen, and he was forced to swallow his own sick. Dean had endured that time after time; he wouldn't want Sam to feel left out. Not that he'd be feeling anything in a few minutes.

Make that seconds. Sam's eyes had rolled upwards to the back of his head, and while his muscles continued to flare unceasingly, Sam was gone. Pure animalistic instinct to survive was the only thing keeping Sam alive.

After what seemed like far too long for Sam, he finally and thankfully 'died.' Not that there was any real rest in Hell. In a few seconds, Sam had woken; whole and new again, but the fear never left his eyes. Even if he managed to escape the Pit, he doubted that it ever would,

No matter how often Dean said it, Sam wasn't selfish. What Dean didn't know was that even through all the agony Sam was forced to endure, his concerns were still for Dean. He'd willingly be tormented under the Devil's blade for a thousand more years if he thought it would save his brother; because this? This wasn't the Dean that had died with and for Sam numerous time already. Dean could torture him all he liked, but Sam would never hate him for it; his hatred would always be for himself.

So many maybes and if constantly swam around Sam's head, each scenario ending with Dean not having to be trapped there with Sam, and Sam would have been okay with that. He'd much rather suffer at Satan's hand than Dean's.

Turned out Lucifer had been thinking the same thing. Either that or he just missed the action. He was like a pouty child that had carelessly discarded a toy, but only seemed to care when someone else wanted it. Sam was the chew toy, and the dogs were ready to play.

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><p>It was a mistake for Castiel to agree to join Crowley in one of his- shall we say- <em>interrogation <em>sessions. Never again would he want to hear sounds like the creature beneath Crowley's knife made.

Howling. Choking. Screaming. Any other time Castiel heard those sounds, he would have stopped whatever was causing such agony, but he found himself indirectly responsible for its pain. Telling himself that it was all for the great or good was pretty much the only way he could convince himself it was worth it. It was also pretty much the only thought he had nowadays.

The monster before him was a shape-shifter, but it wasn't a regular one; it was the Alpha. Castiel had found it when he had gone off to collect the soul of a noble hunter, who had died in the line of duty, but when he'd told Castiel the tale of what killed him, Castiel knew what this creature was. And even more importantly, he knew it could lead him to Purgatory.

That is, if he- it- ever decided to talk.

Crowley had tracked down an ancient blade that could actually hurt it more than silver, but God, the _sounds _it made…

Eventually, Castiel made forced himself to walk away, no longer able to bare the cries. Crowley had sworn that the shifter was about to crack, but the time wasn't coming soon enough.

Finally, Crowley returned with a grin, wearing a smock simply _drenched _in blood. "Guess who just learned how to find Purgatory?"

It was finally all worth it.

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><p>I felt compelled to add that last little bit with Castiel, otherwise I'd feel like I'd be leaving you with yet another plotless chapter. Not sure why Cas angst comes so easily to me. Anywho, if y'all got time, drop a review for old sammysmissingshoe, and I'll try to get my butt in gear so you don't have to wait as long for the next chap. See y'all soon!<p> 


	6. How Can You Be So Blind?

AN: In my creepy basement with scary music playing… I will regret this. Sorry I've been so sporadic with updates on this fic, but it's competition season, and I'm busy as crap lately, but hey, at least I'm updating! Enjoy guys!

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><p>It <em>burned. <em>Castiel had gotten greedy with the souls. He'd even betrayed Crowley so he wouldn't have had to share his findings from Purgatory. Crowley had then proceeded to turn to Raphael, the archangel who, like Castiel, was attempting to take control over Heaven.

How very cowardly of them both. Castiel unleashed the power the souls granted him, and eradicated Raphael with a mere snap of his fingers. Crowley required no more prodding than that, and he had vanished. He very well understood who Castiel was now. Or at least, who Castiel believed he was:

God. Castiel was no longer the rebellious angel he once was; he thought he was God. No other being matched him, why couldn't he be? He failed to realize that God couldn't just happen. Power isn't what makes God God.

But that still wouldn't stop Castiel from achieving what he had originally set out to do; rescue the Winchesters.

Right then, he said to hell with punishing those who had fought alongside Raphael, he was finally going to save his friends; his _family._

The radiance of the Cage was one of the first things Castiel felt when he became "God." With his newfound power, he ripped open the Earth.

Gut-wrenching screaming was the first thing he heard as the Cage opened. What made it worse, was that he knew the voice; it was Sam. Honestly, that wasn't what surprised him; it was the lack of Dean's screams. Both the Winchesters were down there, of that Castiel was positive. So why couldn't he hear Dean? The horrible screaming cut deep into Castiel's heart, and it encouraged him even more to save them.

When Castiel arrived in the Pit, the sight before him made him regret every single second he had wasted with his petty war. His friend, Dean Winchester, was looming over his brother, also Castiel's friend, and Dean was torturing Sam. What had happened to him?

"Dean?" Castiel dared to ask.

Slowly, Dean turned his head towards Castiel, the grin on his face widening. "Hey, buddy!" Dean greeted with the same, very off, smile. "How'd you manage to get the juice to come here all by yourself?" Dean had to raise his voice to be heard over Sam's unending screams as he continued to be tortured.

"Brother," Michael took in the sight of Castiel. He could feel Castiel's vessel nearing its limit, a time bomb on the brink of going off. "What have you done to yourself?" Michael's voice dripped with worry for his little brother. Even from down there, Michael still cared for his family.

"What I had to do, Michael." Castiel replied, his voice cold and detached.

"Well, look at you!" Lucifer congratulated Castiel as he approached him, patting him on the back. "Somebody wants to be God. Yknow, that's what got me put in here in the first place. Got a lot in common, you and me."

Castiel wrenched himself away from Lucifer. "I am nothing like you. I have the power to obliterate you, so I advise that you get out of my way."

"You-!" Lucifer was mad, but he didn't doubt that Castiel would kill him if given a reason, so he stepped down.

"Castiel," Michael looked at his brother in disbelief. "You are not our Father, you can't-"

"As a matter of fact, I can. You too need to get out of my way, or you will suffer for it."

Reluctantly, Michael did so, missing the oblivious and caring Castiel he used to know.

"Dean," Castiel's tone had turned kind once more. "What has happened to you? Why are you doing this to Sam?"

All he heard for a moment was Sam's pained moan, and then Dean finally answered. "Why the hell not?"

"He is your brother, you both died for one another."

Dean left his position over Sam's well restrained body, and began casually circling Castiel, yet it was in such a predatory manor. "And what exactly has being dead done for us, hmm?"

"You stopped the apocalypse. You both saved the world."

Laughing, Dean just shook his head. "You really think that's gonna last? Uh-uh. It's only a matter of time before the next big showdown between Earth and God knows what next time. We saved a world that's already damned! What good is that?"

True, the world would have to end eventually, but why couldn't Dean realise that what he did was right? "There are billions of families that are alive because of you two."

If Castiel thought Dean's laugh was condescending before, he was dead wrong. The laugh that burst from Dean's throat was wild, manic. "Family…" He chuckled again. "Family has never done anything for me 'cept get me killed. Who needs a family when you're-" He was at Sam's side again, and in a flash, his hand shot out and snapped Sam's neck. "Free?"

Castiel wanted to throw up. He'd seen people die before, even Sam, but never like this; never by his brother's hands. "I can save you, Dean. It's why I've come here. You don't need to do this anymore."

"Aw, that hurts my feelings. You don't like this side of me?" He went over to Castiel, and grabbed him by the collar of his trench coat. "What's wrong, angel? Afraid of the dark?" At that, Castiel saw a sight he wouldn't have imagined in his worst nightmares, if he slept that is. Dean Winchester's eyes had gone completely black.

This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't be. This was the fate that Heaven had lost numerous angels to trying to prevent. When Castiel had pulled Dean from Hell, he wasn't on the rack; he was the one torturing. Once he'd gone topside, Dean was broken with the knowledge of all he'd done. He'd just been torturing nameless and faceless souls, how would he be able to live with himself after everything he'd done to Sam?

"Dean, I can fix this. I can cure you."

"I don't wanna be fixed." Dean snarled. "I'm not asking for your help."

"And I'm not asking for your permission." On that note, Castiel reached out and clutched Dean's arm the same way he had when he had first raised Dean. Something Dean had failed to notice when he was rescued was how impossible it would have been for Castiel to pull him up on his own. When he had held on to Dean, Dean had held back.

Now though, Dean growled and struggled furiously against Castiel, clearly not wanting to give in without a fight. Castiel took hold of Sam's wrist, and began pulling them upwards. He gradually felt Sam's pulse come back to life. At the moment, Castiel couldn't think of the consequences of bringing the Winchesters back in their current states, he just needed them to be free. He could deal with the long term affects later.

Even with his newfound power, pulling both of them from the Cage was no easy task. Michael attempted to follow them out, and with a heavy heart, Castiel cast him back to the depths of the Cage. Castiel was unable to determine whether the action had left Michael furious, or just betrayed.

Lucifer was no mystery though. He swore and cursed at Castiel, promising him that when the end came, Castiel would be the first to suffer his wrath.

These were his brothers; it would be a lie to say Castiel had no sympathy for leaving them behind. But this was what had to be done. They'd nearly destroyed the planet, and Castiel saw no future redemption for either of them. Right before he reached the top, Castiel could have sworn he heard Michael crying.

When he was finally clear from the Cage, Castiel reluctantly closed the void once more. Hopefully, it would never open again, until the true end of times.

Free at last, the Winchesters were now his first priority. He turned back to them, and his heart sank. Dean had wrapped his arm around Sam's throat, cutting off his air. Sam didn't appear to be able to stand on his own two feet. Dean's grip was the only reason he was vertical at the moment.

"Don't come any closer." Dean warned when Castiel stepped towards them, and he tightened his chokehold in response.

Sam gagged and gasped for breath with the action, and his hands went up to Dean's arm in a panic. He clawed at Dean's arm desperately, not entirely aware of what was happening, other than being unable to breathe. Some distant part of him told him that he was no longer in Hell, but he'd wrongly believed that far too many times to trust it again.

"Dean, stop this." Castiel pleaded. "You don't need to hurt Sam anymore. You're free."

"I don't care how powerful you think you are now, I'm not going back to that hell I used to call my life."

"This isn't you talking. You need to fight this, I can cure you!"

"Would you stop saying 'cure?' This ain't your choice, Cas, it's mine. And I don't want to be saved."

Castiel moved closer again, and Dean pulled on Sam's neck until his face started reddening, and he could only wheeze in an occasional trickle of air. "I mean it. I'll kill him."

"I will just bring him back. Don't do this, Dean."

Fuming with frustration, Dean produced the angel blade he had whisked from Castiel's pocket when he was being pulled from Hell.

"That will not work on me." Castiel said.

"Oh don't worry, it ain't for you." Not giving Castiel the chance to react, he stuck the tip of the blade through the still unhealed scar at Sam's lower back, the one he'd gotten at Cold Oak.

Sam cried out in utter agony as the scar reopened. As futile as it may have been, he thrashed against Dean's grip, and looked pleadingly over at Castiel, his eyes begging Castiel to save him from yet another torture. He arched in pain as he tried to worm away from his brother's grasp, only causing Dean to sink the knife further into the wound, eliciting a pained moan out of him.

"New plan, Cas." Dean inched the blade even further, Sam's struggles only jostling the knife and opening the wound even more. "I walk away or," He pushed it even deeper until Sam shrieked and cried out a broken, "Please stop!" "Or I kill Sammy, and then I'll possess him. Can't really save a walking corpse can ya, Cas?" The old nickname slid easily from Dean's tongue, further mocking Castiel with the man that Dean used to be.

If Castiel let Dean kill and possess Sam, all his sacrifices would be meaningless. Even if he could only save Sam right now, it was better than allowing him to die again because of Castiel's stubbornness. "Fine, Dean, you win. Just let your brother go."

Drawing the knife out slowly, Dean grinned in his dark victory. "Glad you see things my way, angel." He shoved his broken brother at Castiel, sending them both tumbling to the ground. "Until we meet again." With a confidence the old Dean could never have, he turned away from his _family, _and left them in the dirt. It was time for him to raise a little hell.

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><p>AN: …Blame the muse. She's the demon Dean lover, not me! (Big lie. Black eyed Dean, just- mmm) I'm still not sure where I'm going with this, but I'm having a blast right now, and if you are too, drop a review for dear old Sammysmissingshoe. See y'all soon!<p> 


	7. Is the Heart of Stone

AN: Look who's finally using dialogue! And look, no agonizingly long wait for this chapter! Good job, me, high five! *High fives self*

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><p>Being a demon felt more right than it should have. Dean had never realized how liberating it was. No brother to hold him back, no angel on his shoulder 'guiding' him through every wrong turn or misstep.<p>

Have you ever made a bad decision just for the hell of it? Slapped a sweet little waitress's ass just because you could? Maybe overstep your boundaries at a strip club just for the sakes of getting in a fight with security? Ever rip a man's throat out with your teeth just to see if it was possible? No? Well, Dean Winchester highly recommends.

He did miss Sammy though, his screams more specifically. Honestly, he kinda missed Hell too; he made quite a name for himself down there. He was a new breed; a demon molded by an archangel and Satan himself. He truly felt worthy of Hell's crown, and he knew a certain crossroads demon who could give it to him.

"Well, well, well." Crowley popped up behind Dean and the bowl he had mixed the ingredients in to summon him. "Look who's back in-"

"Say 'back in black' and I stab you." Dean warned. He wasn't in the mood for puns.

"Point taken. So, welcome back, Dean. Loving the new look."

"Cut the crap, Crowley. You know why you're here."

Crowley scoffed with a raise of his eyebrows. "Do I now?"

"You don't deserve the throne. You're nothing but a dumbass salesman. Me? I'm the result of the Devil's hand itself. You really don't wanna get in my way."

Teeth grit together, Crowley practically hissed, "I've been ruling Hell for over a year now. I've got an army ready to defend me, should the matter present itself. What do you have?"

Dean chuckled. "What do I have?" He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out the angel blade. "I have you defenseless, and nothing to lose."

Fear wasn't an emotion Crowley liked to show, but he couldn't stop his eyes from widening at the sight of that glimmering blade. "N-now, let's not be hasty here."

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything... Unless you make me. You can ether give me the throne, with or without your head still attached to your shoulders."

"Okay... Or, how about this?" With a panicked snap of his fingers, Crowley was gone.

Knocking the bowl over in a heated rage, Dean shouted to the empty air. "C'mon you coward! Come back here, and face me like a man!" It didn't really matter in the end though. Dean would win Hell, one way, or another.

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><p>"Sam, please calm down." Castiel was attempting to soothe the frantic and unfocused Sam, to no avail.<p>

"Leave me alone! Get off! I kn-know you're not r-real!" He was losing too much blood. It ran in rivulets down his back, and only worsened with his struggles.

"Stop!" Castiel put his hand on Sam's shoulders to hold him down. "Even if you don't believe I am real, at least let me heal you."

Momentarily calming down, Sam let Castiel gently touch his forehead, and the scar closed up once more. He continued shivering in anticipation, anticipation of what he wasn't entirely sure. "G-go ahead... Tell me how I l-let you down too."

Sorrowfully, Castiel closed his eyes, and shook his head. "Sam, I am not going to hurt you. You're out. Michael and Lucifer are trapped in the Cage, but you aren't."

"J-just stop... I-I know my place here now."

"Sam, look at me." Castiel's nearly glowing blue eyes radiated concern and compassion, something Lucifer and Michael would never be able to duplicate. "I got you out, Dean too. He has turned into a demon, and he needs your help. If this was just one of Lucifer's illusions, what good would there be for him to take away from you?"

Seemingly speechless for a moment, Sam simply stared at Castiel, willing himself to trust that this could finally be true. "Y-you're real?"

Relieved, Castiel nodded. "Yes, this is real. Although, I almost wish it wasn't."

Barely even above a whisper, Castiel heard, "We have to kill him."

"S-Sam?" Castiel hoped he had misheard him.

Unable to bring himself to look Castiel in the eyes, Sam repeated himself. "D-Dean. We have to kill him. He- th-that's not my brother anymore." Sam sat up on the ground, but he brought his knees a little closer to his chest, as though he were tempted to curl into the fetal position. His voice trembled with the trauma offered by the nightmare inducing memories.

"Sam, we can get him back. We just need-"

"No, Cas!" Sam whipped his head towards the angel, a burning hatred and almost irreparable hurt roaring in his eyes. "You don't know all the things he did to me. You don't _want _to know all the things he did to me! I know my brother, and that wasn't him. It doesn't matter if you 'fix' him or whatever; he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing what he did down there. The memories alone would kill him; that's why I gotta do it first."

"You-... You'd kill your brother, Sam?"

Angrily, Sam snapped back, "He didn't seem to think twice about torturing me for centuries, Cas!"

"You can't really blame him for breaking can you? If you were given the chance, wouldn't you have picked up a blade?"

"I did have the chance, but I said no. I never hurt Dean in Hell."

"And yet you are willing to kill him on Earth?"

Sam went silent at Castiel's counterargument, and chewed the inside of his lip.

"There must be another way." Castiel told him hopefully. As he opened his mouth to suggest where they ought to begin, a pained groan suddenly leapt from his throat, and he doubled over.

"Cas?" Sam hurried to his friend's side. "Cas! What's happening?!"

In a strained voice barely above a croak, Castiel wheezed out, "Th-the souls... M-my vessel c-can't hold them much longer."

"Souls? What souls?"

"P-Purgatory."

"What- never mind. How do we get them out of you?"

"C-can't. W-won't b'able to-t'save Dean."

"You're no good to Dean if you're dead. We'll figure something else out later, but right now, we're getting those souls out of you." Sam didn't notice his continuous use of 'we.' He was far too used to have Dean by his side to change pronouns now.

"N-need Death."

"Hey, hey, hey, don't talk like that, you're not gonna die."

"N-no, the horseman. Can't open Purgatory w-without lunar eclipse. Death can m-make one."

"Okay, we can summon- Death." It didn't sound like a good idea in the slightest, but Sam couldn't let Castiel die after all he had sacrificed to save him. He'd already lost enough of his family today.

* * *

><p>Hell had gone downhill since Dean's last visit. Waiting in lines? That was Crowley's idea of eternal torture? Dumbass. Dean knew what made a good Hell; he'd lived through it twice now.<p>

His new demon buddy was feeling particularly chatty about exactly what was happening in Hell right now. Sure, it had needed a little gentle persuasion from the angel blade, but, hey, at least it was talking.

"How many followers has Crowley got?" Dean grilled in an unforgiving tone. The demon whimpered, and bit its lip in reluctance to answer. Dean sighed, dragging and digging the knife down an already weeping cut on its chest. "Speak up," he cooed to the screaming demon. "I can't hear you."

"Cr-Crowley'll kill me!" It sobbed.

"Don't worry; I ain't gonna give him the chance. You talk, I let you die. Quickly."

Death to a demon was far less gruesome than being punished by the King for treason. Dean's deal honestly sounded blissful to the thing. "Th-there's still loyalists left."

"Loyalists of Lucifer?"

It nodded. "B-but Crowley's been tracking 'em down, a-and killing them."

"Oh, so the King's the jealous type, huh?"

The demon simply quaked in response.

"What I'm taking from all this," Dean thought out loud, as he mindlessly twirled the blade in his hand. "Is that he's using scare tactics to get his way. Doesn't really sound like the right way to win a throne, does it?"

Afraid of what Dean might do in response if it didn't answer, (Ironic, wasn't it?) the demon frantically shook its head, making Dean chuckle.

"Sounds like Hell could use a little- liberation."

Almost cautiously, the demon nodded again.

"Well," Dean wiped the blood from the blade on one of the torn shreds of the demon's shirt. "You gave me all I need information-wise. Thanks for that."

Letting out a sigh of relief, the demon sagged down its head. It suddenly went up on a garbled yell when Dean drove the blade through the demon's thigh.

"Sorry, can't actually let you go just yet." The knife twisted with almost loving precision. "This is just was too much fun."

* * *

><p>AN: Wanna know something exciting? I know exactly where I'm going with this! I've got the whole rest of the story plotted out in my head, so now I just gotta put it all on words! If y'all got time, drop a review, it really makes my day every time! See y'all soon!<p> 


	8. No Empathy Inside

AN: I started this story in a barely used notebook, but I now have resorted to stapling stray papers to the end of it because that's how long this story has gotten. In case you've not yet noticed, I'm pretty much skipping season 7. Don't mean to offend you if you liked them, but I abhorred the Leviathans. Seriously, they can rot in Purgatory, those hellacious little fishmen.

* * *

><p>Death had been far less than pleased to create a lunar eclipse, but at least he had agreed to do it without demanding anyone's soul in return. He wasn't as unsympathetic as people would assume; he just did as his job dictated. If he had to kill, then he killed. It was as simple as that.<p>

As grateful as Sam was, his worry Cas was far greater at the moment. He doubted Castiel was strong enough to teleport them to the door to Purgatory, so he had had to drive. The entire ride, he had heard every single groan or gasp of pain that Castiel hadn't prevented from slipping loose. Sam had wished he was in the Impala; he could have turned on the radio and play some of Dean's music to try and distract them both.

Then again, that would've just mocked them with the knowledge that Dean was no longer with them. ACDC's melodies would just remind Sam and Castiel of their failures.

After what seemed like far too long of a drive, they finally arrived at the building that Castiel had managed to point out with his trembling finger. Practically being carried by Sam, Castiel made his way inside. He croaked out where Sam could find the blood to open the door, and as soon as Sam left to retrieve it, Castiel let himself slide down the wall in exhaustion.

Hands pressed his stomach from the _inside,_ and the unholy and wrong touches made Castiel want to throw up each and every soul, one by one, so long as he'd never have to feel that kind of invasion again.

"Let us out, let us out, let us out!" The hundreds upon thousands of souls screamed inside his head. He just wanted it to stop; maybe giving into the voices and letting them takeover would let Castiel find his peace.

"Cas!" Sam announced as he entered the room, snapping Castiel's attention back to reality. "I-I got it."

Sam looked- off, haunted. Castiel couldn't really blame him for appearing so after all he'd endured, and Sam had yet to fall apart, but right now he looked like he was right on the brink of snapping. "Y-you don't look well, Sam."

A humourless laugh left Sam's mouth. "Look who's talking."

It was true; Castiel's poor vessel was ripped and peeling, unable to stand the weight of all that power inside it any longer. But how typical of Sam to avoid talking about his own needs in order to save someone else. Per-Winchester usual.

"C'mon, buddy." Sam urged as he eased Cas to his feet. He twitched momentarily towards an unheard voice behind him. _"I'm out, I'm out, he isn't real."_ He tried to convince himself, for Lucifer was leaning against the door frame; wiggling his fingers at Sam like a teenage girl would if she was waving at a boy she fancied.

Castiel staggered up, and stood in front of the blood sigil before him. The voices continued shouting at him, but it didn't put Castiel off enough to stop him from reciting the spell, and then Purgatory opened. He opened his mouth, and felt the monsters literally clawing their way out his throat. He felt some cling on to him, but the sensation of the other souls sliding past his gag reflex caused him to heave the remaining souls out of his body. With a final cough, he knew he was free.

* * *

><p>There was almost a beautiful irony with Dean gunning for Hell's throne. Sam was the one who demons used to call, "The Boy King" but he'd never been willing to step up and accept his responsibility. The way Dean saw it, he still fit the bloodline; Hell's crown was rightfully his.<p>

No doubt his little brother was looking for him right this very second, but Dean just couldn't bother to give a damn.

The thing he had missed the most when he was in Hell was the Impala, his baby. It was the next stop on his list; he wanted that car back.

She wasn't in the field Castiel had raised him in, so he figured an old friend of his would know where she had gone: Bobby Singer.

Let's see, Dean could either spring a sudden and violent visitation to Bobby's, or pretend that he was really back and have holy water and salt thrown in his face... Surprise visit it is.

Moonlight illuminated the crazed look in Dean's eyes; in fact, it was the only relatively light thing in those soulless black eyes he now had, but damn did he _love _them.

Playing with his beloved angel blade, he gave it a little toss, and then placed it back in his coat pocket. Spotting the most decent car in the lot he was in, he smashed a window with his elbow, and let himself inside.

Driving to Bobby's house, even with such a dark intention in mind, still somehow felt- normal to Dean. In that other life, Bobby was Dean's friend; he would have been able to drive to Bobby's nonstop from anywhere in the country. It was once his home, and it would soon be drenched with blood. Seemed like all his 'homes' ended up that way eventually.

Break down the door, or sneak in? Eh, screw it. Dean lifted his foot, kicked, and with the aid of his demonic powers, the door cracked open with a loud crash. "Knock, knock!" Dean shouted to the silence. He waited in the quiet a moment longer before calling out, "C'mon, Bobby, you're supposed to say, 'Who's there?'"

A low growl was all the warning Dean got before some kind of acid latched onto his face, and burned his flesh. No, not acid; holy water. Good God, is this really how it felt to be hit with this crap? Dean actually felt bad for all the times he had tormented demons with it. But he could feel sorry later; right now, he just wanted to feel hot, slick blood run down his arms.

Recovering quickly, Dean swung around, and tackled Bobby to the floor. More holy water hissed and sizzled as it came into contact with his skin again, and Bobby managed to roll out from underneath Dean. "You made a big mistake showing up with that boy's face." Bobby threatened.

Chuckling as the stinging slowly died down, Dean shook his head. "I've got bad news for you, Bobby..." Dean let his eyes slip black, just for emphasis. "I ain't possessed. All me in here."

"My ass!" Bobby yanked out a salt rifle, and with a hint of apology on his face, he shot Dean full of rock salt.

It wasn't like Dean hadn't been shot with rock salt before, (Thanks for that, Sam!) but being a demon made it send sparks of agony through his chest, down his spine, all the way down to his feet, then all the way back up his spine again. He shouted in anger and pain, feeling every grain corroding away his flesh with every jostle or flinch of his body. Hissing in agitation, Dean gathered himself back together, and leapt to his feet with a ragged cry. He cracked his neck, black eyes glistening with hatred. "S-so... You been treating my baby good?"

Bobby lifted the rifle to shoot Dean again, but Dean flicked his fingers and the gun dropped. Backing away, Bobby shouted, "It ain't your car, you son of a bitch! You got his face, but that don't make you my Dean." He reached for another gun, but Dean flicked his fingers again, sending Bobby to the wall.

"Guess I can't really convince you that it really is me. Won't mean much to you when you're dead though." Dean shrugged nonchalantly.

Keeping Bobby pinned to the wall, Dean sauntered into the kitchen, searching for a beer. He grabbed one from the fridge and took a long sip, but then he began twitching uncontrollably when he heard voice reciting an exorcism from the other room. Shuddering with blatant discomfort, Dean curled his hand into a tight fist, and he heard Bobby gasping as Dean choked him with his invisible hand.

"Really, Bobby? Gonna exorcise me without even saying 'hello?' That just hurts my feelings." Silver gleamed in the moonlight as Dean brought out his angel blade. "But it probably didn't hurt as much as this."

And then Dean slid the blade through Bobby's gut; right on the scar where he had stabbed himself when he was possessed. Bobby's eyes went wide with pain and shock, and then he squeezed them shut as the knife slowly twisted inside him.

"Remember when you almost did this to me? Sure, you were possessed, but it still- _cut deep_." On the last two words, he pushed the blade in even deeper. "Know what? I wish I would've asked what you've been up to lately, but it's probably something along the lines of drowning your liver in whiskey and trying to find a way to pull me and Sammy outta the Cage, huh?" He ripped the angel blade out, and Bobby fell to the floor, blood now spurting from the wound now that nothing was obstructing it.

Desperate and in pain, Bobby reached out his hand to Dean, silently pleading for some kind of recognition or compassion. "I-" He managed to sputter. "I been like a f-father to you, boy." Blood coated his teeth and dribbled down his lips as he spoke.

"Yeah, well, I've got daddy issues." With an almost merciful flick of his wrist, Dean snapped Bobby's neck. "Thanks for taking care of my car for me."

The Impala was still in beautiful shape. Bobby must've looked after her after all. He sat down in the front seat, and then he noticed Bobby's blood dripping off his hands, and staining the seat's leather.

What a damn shame.

* * *

><p>I'msorryI'msosorryI'msososory! But Bobby wasn't around for the events I plan on using from season eight, so he had to go. And I know, I'm terrible for making Dean be the one to do it, but I think that's a much better ending than being shot in the head by Dick. Leave a review if y'all have got time, and lemme know what you thought so far. See y'all soon!<p> 


	9. Time Keeps on Slipping Away

AN: *Spends twelve hours at a show choir competition; Muse is dead. Tries to go to bed at midnight; Muse decides to kick in until two thirty in the morning.* Not even kidding. So if people are a little out of character, or if things are kind of jumbled, it's cuz I'm running on very few hours of sleep. Sorry for the long wait, but this chapter is nice and long as a reward for your patience!

* * *

><p>"How you feeling, Cas?" It had taken a few days, but Castiel was steadily recovering.<p>

"My vessel is slowly beginning to mend. How are you doing, Sam? Are you still seeing- him?"

Sam's eyes shifted away from Castiel at the sound of Lucifer's childish snickering. For a long time, he had considered not telling Castiel about his seemingly never ending hallucinations, but keeping things to himself had nearly gotten him killed too many times already, so he had managed to buck up and admit it. His nod to Castiel was probably unnecessary, but he did anyway.

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Castiel attempted to console his friend.

"Isn't he cute, Sammy?" Lucifer teased with a mocking smile. "Bet you wished he closed the Cage door all the way, don't ya? I wouldn't be here without him." Lucifer patted Castiel on the back, and for a split second, Sam thought he saw Cas flinch.

"It's fine, really." Sam insisted. "I can handle it." His hand slipped to his back, and he silently dug his fingers into the supposedly healing scar, but he was positive that with the constant abuse he put it through that it had grown enflamed and irritated again. If he could hurt himself enough in this world- the _real _word- he could sometimes make the Devil go away, even if only for a little while. "Have you-"

"No," Castiel interrupted, soberly knowing what Sam was going to ask him. "I have not found out anything about Dean. But I may have found something else."

"What is it?"

"During an- interrogation," Castiel dropped eye contact at the word, giving Sam the notion that it was probably a lot more heated than a simple discussion. "One of Raphael's followers mentioned something about a tablet."

"A tablet?"

Castiel nodded. "He didn't say much, other than that there are three tablets in existence; Leviathans, Heaven, and Hell."

"What's a Leviathan?"

"A creature from Purgatory. They feed on humans, and have the ability to take form of whoever they've eaten. From what the angel let on about the tablet, it says how to defeat them."

"Where are you going with this, Cas?"

"If the Leviathan tablet holds the key to stopping them, what do you imagine could be on Hell's tablet?"

Processing what he had just heard, Sam eagerly stood up. "So, you're saying there's a way to stop Hell?"

"There's no telling exactly what is on it, but it could be the key to finally being one step ahead of them."

"Alright, then let's go get it!" Sam watched Castiel's expression fall, and Sam's hope went right down with it. "Cas?"

"I do not know exactly where to find it."

Lucifer was suddenly blaring the _whomp, whomp, whomp, waaaahh _tune on a trombone he had made appear out of nowhere, making Sam's face harden, upset by both Lucifer, and the fact that Castiel had lead him on.

"But," Castiel added. "I do know where to start looking."

A start wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. "I'm with you all the way, Cas."

* * *

><p>Despite being a Winchester, Dean had managed to get a fairly decent amount of followers topside. But unlike Crowley, he didn't have to rely on fear to get them. He simply told them about his experiences in Hell, and how he'd turned into this, more specifically, who had turned him into this. Say the name 'Lucifer' and the demons either flock right to you, or they try to run home to daddy. Those little brats need to grow up. Which they potentially could have, that is if Dean hadn't killed them the second he doubted their loyalties.<p>

Still, Dean was a fair guy. He'd reward those who deserved it, and he'd punish whoever needed to learn their place. For example, Sam and Castiel were going to pay once he finally caught up with them.

On a lighter note, one of his followers had announced that they'd heard some very interesting news. This could either end with a congratulatory pat on the back, or with blood speckling the floor. Honestly, Dean was hoping for the latter.

"Come on in, Meg." Dean motioned her in to what he had deemed as his office. As a human, he had always hated Meg, well, not that he was exactly in love with her as a demon either, but she hated Crowley just as much as he did, and that made her useful.

"I always thought you Winchesters were a little high and might for my taste, but I think you're growing into really nice there, Dean-o."

"If you're looking for a way to weasel your way in as my queen, you're barking up the wrong tree."

Meg chuckled. "Slow down, big boy. No barking here. Just thought I'd let you in on a little tale I've been told."

"I'm listening."

"So, I was torturing one of Crowley's minions-"

Dean cut her off with w chuckle. "That's always a good start."

Meg giggled. "And they said something about the demon tablet."

"That some kind of demon bedtime story?"

"Urban legend more like. Rumour has it that it's got the way to close Hell written on it somewhere."

No longer smiling, Dean huffed. "That sounds like a potential problem."

"Bright side; there's only a few people out there who can read it. We track 'em down before anybody else, and we've got the upper hand."

"You got a name for me?"

Nodding, Meg replied, "Kevin Tran. Some AP student over at-"

"Don't care. Can you get him or not?"

Meg smiled. "Anything for my King."

* * *

><p>Kevin Tran was an honours student, and yet somehow he found himself currently talking to a man who claimed to fight monsters, and another guy who thought he was an angel. It was all kind of a lot to take in, so when Kevin only sputtered out cries of confusion, neither man appeared to be very affected.<p>

"Look," Sam tried to explain. "I know this sounds a little crazy-"

"A little?!" To say Kevin was freaking out was a gross understatement. "I get struck by lightning one night, then next thing I know there's an 'angel' in my dorm room telling me about closing the gates of Hell, and that I-I'm a prophet of Jesus or something!"

"This is nothing to be afraid of." Castiel added.

"You said Hell! Hell means demons, and that definitely sounds like something I should be afraid of!"

It appeared as though Castiel was about to protest, but Sam answered first. "You're right."

Kevin just blubbered. Sure, he thought he was right, but he had been hoping for some kind of comfort in the matter.

"You should be afraid of them." Sam continued. "If they find out about you, which they probably already have, they're gonna track you down, and they're gonna torture you until you tell them every single thing that's on that tablet. It doesn't matter if you want this or not. You have it, and you can't escape it."

There were a few beats of silence, before Castiel commented, "That was a little harsh, don't you think, Sam?"

"It's the truth and you know it, Cas." Sam countered. "If our side knows about you, I don't know how long you've got before the other side learns."

Abruptly, as though the universe just loved to screw them over, the lights began to flicker.

"Wh-wh-what's happening?!" Kevin demanded frantically.

"They're coming." Sam announced as he stood up, taking a protective stance in front of Kevin. Being half a foot taller than him made Sam a pretty good meat shield.

"Hey!" Lucifer finally decided to make his 'presence' known by shouting to the world. "Prophet's right here! Cowering behind my bunk buddy! Get 'im while he's hot!" Flames slowly began creeping like snakes up then around Sam's legs. It burned just as much as a real fire would, but Sam managed to ignore it, and focus on the bigger problem.

The door swung open before Sam could really prepare himself, and next thing he knew, he was plastered to the wall, unable to move.

"Well, well, well." Crowley greeted. Sam hadn't seen him since before he fell in the pit, which had been centuries to Sam, but he still never forgot a face. "If it isn't my old business partner."

Had-had Sam heard him correctly? "'Business partner?'" The way Castiel purposefully moved his eyes away from Sam made his heart sink. "Cas, what's he talking about?"

"My, my, Castiel." Crowley chastised with a chuckle. "You never told him about our little arrangement? You make it seem like we had an affair, dearie."

"What arrangement?!" Sam demanded, noticeably angrier.

"You don't really think sweet little Cassie got all those souls on his own, now do you Moose?"

"Y-you're working for him?" Kevin finally managed to squeak out.

"Crowley," Castiel warned. "I suggest you stop talking."

"Couldn't agree more." Announced a different, yet still distantly familiar, voice. Crowley suddenly fell to his knees, blood burbling past his lips. A woman with black hair stepped in front of the door. "You coming or what, boys?"

That face… Could it really be, "Meg?" Sam asked disbelievingly.

"You really are a moose, aren't you? You wanna do introductions, or you wanna flee?"

Despite his numerous question and doubts, Sam elected to follow Meg. After what Crowley had just revealed about Cas, Meg was officially the most trustworthy person in the room. As they ran off the campus, one question slipped loose. "How did you find us?"

"Your brother sent me. You still got a car, right?"

"Allow me." Castiel stepped in. He pressed his fingers to Meg and Sam's foreheads, shortly followed by Kevin's, and took them all somewhere far away from Crowley and the undeniable amount of followers he had probably brought with him.

Clearly still mad about Castiel's betrayal, Sam made no effort to thank him, and he turned back to Meg. "You're working for Dean?"

"I use 'working for' very loosely. Right now, he's the only downstairs guy with power who doesn't want my head on a stick. I run a few errands for him, and he lets my head stay attached to my body."

"What kind of 'errands?'" Sam inquired cautiously.

"Not in front of the honours kid. Anyway, once I'd heard about this little cutie," She pinched Kevin's cheek like an overly affectionate aunt fawning over a newborn baby. "I just had to make sure he didn't fall into the wrong hands."

"What exactly are you saying?" Castiel questioned doubtfully.

"I don't like Dean," She answered. "But he's a lot less likely to kill me than Crowley. I've just been waiting for the right time to jump ship. I miss the good ol' days. Back before my dear old daddy decided to make plans, and rules. I guess I just miss the beautiful anarchy Hell use to have."

"Meaning you want to help us?" Sam confirmed.

"Meaning I want to guarantee my own safety. I figure, I'm on two-thirds of the competing sides, those are some friendly looking odds."

"How do we know Dean didn't send you so you could tell him everything our side's planning?"

"Guess you don't." Meg shrugged. "Looks like you're gonna have to use some of that human thing called trust, Sammy. What do you say? You got a friend in me? Promise not to possess you this time."

"Sam," Castiel advised. "You can't be considering-"

"Really, Cas?" Sam snapped. "You're gonna lecture me about siding with a demon after what just happened?" He didn't wait for Castiel to respond before looking back to Meg. "You got a deal."

"Let's leave this unofficial." She said with a smile. "I've already kissed enough Winchesters for one lifetime."

* * *

><p>Bringing back some fandom favourites, who also happen to be my favourites. Now, I've got a soft spot for Megstiel, so I might poke at it a bit, but it'll never be super in-your-face. This is sammysmissingshoe we're talking about here. I'm not known for romance. I love me dat tortured Sammy, and angst abound, so that's what there's always gonna be. Let me know what you guys think so far, and I'll try to do better with updates. Seriously, show choir is taking over my life.<p> 


	10. But We Haven't Learned

AN: Okay, Kevin's still pretty spastic in this chapter, but I think the kid deserves a good freak out. As tough as we all like to pretend we are, we'd crap ourselves if this stuff ended up being real. Also, LAST NIGHT'S EPISODES HOLY HECK I WAS LEGIT IN TEARS! AND NOW WE'VE GOT ANOTHER HELLATUS GAAAAHHH! Okay, now that that's out of the way, please enjoy the newest chapter!

* * *

><p>A hunter, a demon, a prophet, and an angel check into a hotel room. If you're waiting for a punch line, there isn't one. The idea itself was funny enough. You'd expect for there to be some kind of endless civil war between them, but honestly? It was just awkward. Meg had ventured off to God knows where to do God knows what, leaving Sam to give Kevin "The Talk" about the supernatural. Once Sam had finished, Kevin had either accepted it, or was in too much shock to respond.<p>

Silence fell over the room for quite some time, but then the door crashed open, revealing a blood covered Meg standing underneath its frame.

"What the hell?!" Sam jumped.

"You salted the door." Meg stated plainly as she crossed the now broken salt line.

"You could've knocked!" Sam argued.

Meg shrugged. "This way was easier."

"Am I the only that noticed that she's got blood all over her?!" Looked like Kevin still wasn't quite done freaking out yet.

"Calm down, kid. It's not human if that makes you feel better."

"Not really." Sam and Kevin said in unison.

"What if I told you that I had a lead on the demon tablet?"

That brought stunned silence to the room once again, finally being broken by a hope filled Sam. "How?"

Meg gestured to the blood on her clothes. "How do you think, Sammy?"

With Dean gone, no one else was calling Sam 'Sammy,' and truthfully, it was almost comforting to have someone say it again, even though it wasn't his brother. It almost gave him hope. "One of Crowley's demons, or Dean's?"

"It doesn't matter." Castiel spoke up. "If one single demon on either side knows, then I can guarantee that there's going to be a lot of demons trying to get there first."

"Okay," Sam concurred. "Meg, Cas, you two go find the tablet. I'll stay here with Kevin."

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle it on your own?" Castiel asked.

Turning away slightly, Sam replied, "I'll be fine." Sam was still pissed to say the least. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that he wasn't sending Cas with Meg just as backup. He didn't entirely trust either of them completely, so he figured one could watch the other. "You better get going." Sam was well aware of how cold he was being.

Emotional cues weren't something Castiel usually picked up on, but he could definitely tell that Sam was still angry with him, so he obliged and set off with Meg.

"Somebody's giving you the cold shoulder. Bigtime." Meg pointed out as she walked beside Castiel.

"I don't blame him. I betrayed him."

"You both need to stop being such girls and grow a pair."

"A pair of what?"

Meg's eyebrows just rose at Castiel's cluelessness. "Forget it. You're lucky you've got a cute vessel, cuz it don't look like you got much else going for you."

"Was-was that meant to be a compliment?"

"Take it how you want it, big boy. We gonna do our thing or what?"

Thing? Oh, right, the tablet. "Where are we headed?"

* * *

><p>"So…" Kevin started awkwardly. "How'd you get into hunting?"<p>

Sam chuckled humourlessly. "That's a long story."

"And we've got a long time before we'll be doing anything useful."

"Read my book."

"Huh?"

"There's a book ser- nevermind."

Uncomfortable silence ensued once more, but then a sigil began glowing on the door to the- closet? Sam protectively shoved Kevin away from it, and he grabbed as many weapons as he could, when a well-dressed man suddenly fell out.

Sam aimed his gun, and promptly questioned, "Who the hell are you?"

"Are you John Winchester?"

"I asked you a question first."

"Please, time is of the essence! Are you John Winchester?"

"No." Sam answered truthfully. He then proceeded to shove the man up against the wall, pressing the gun under his jaw. "Now who the hell are you?!"

"Please," The man said again, managing to keep his voice calm. "I assure you, there is no need for violence."

"My door starts glowing, some guy falls out of my closet asking about my dad, and you don't think there's a need for violence?"

The man went quiet for a moment. "Your John Winchester's son?"

Cautiously, Sam answered. "Yeah."

"Then you must know where he is."

"Course I do. I'm the one who buried him."

Hurt flashed across the man's eyes. "John is dead?"

"Has been for a few years now." Sam replied as he tucked away his gun; the guy clearly wasn't posing much of a threat, so Sam saw no reason to continue keeping him at gunpoint. "Maybe I can try to help you. What's your name?"

"Henry." He answered. "Henry Winchester."

Sam was the one who went quiet this time. "You-you're my-"

"Grandfather. Yes, it would appear so."

"What- how- how are you even here?"

Henry pointed to the door, and just as it looked like he was going to explain himself, the room started shaking and rumbling, and then the sigil began glowing again.

"You expecting someone?" Sam asked with a horrible sense of foreboding settling in his gut.

Before Henry got the chance to answer, the door flew open again, and a woman stepped out; her old fashioned dress simply drenched in blood, her hair only a few shades lighter.

"Henry." She greeted. "Silly man, you forgot to lock the door."

Subtly, Sam was reaching for the demon killing knife, which Cas had managed to hold onto, even after his and Dean's descent into hell.

"But," She continued. "Spells never were your best subject, were they?"

Acting quickly, Sam stabbed the blade into her side. She instantly dropped to her knees, and her face sparked orange, but she just gasped and groaned in pain. Sam backed away as the flashing died down, and she rose to her feet.

"Now that is no way to treat a lady." She flicked her fingers, and Sam collided with the wall, his bones jarring with the abuse.

"Josie," Henry called out to her. "I know you're still in there. You must fight this."

Josie, rather the demon inside of her, laughed. "I'm afraid Josie's indisposed, pet. Now give me what I want, and I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly."

In protest, Kevin visibly shuddered with a small squeak, and hid himself further behind Henry. The demon laughed, and Sam used to distraction to reach for the holy water in his jacket. This demon may not be able to be killed with the blade, but hopefully holy water would still work. He flung the flask at her, and she screamed at the assault.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" Sam urged as he pushed Kevin and Henry out the door. Sam was following close behind, when he felt an invisible hand take hold of him, and yank him back into the room. His chance of escape was ripped away when the door slammed shut behind him. His head crashed into the wall, and he felt his vision starting to blur, but he could still make out 'Josie' towering over him, and she was laughing… Again. He felt her stroke his cheek, and he weakly tried to turn his head away from her wandering fingers.

"You think this is bad?" She cooed as she pinched his jaw between her fingers, and gave his head a little shake. "It'll be so much worse if Henry doesn't do as I ask. But in the meantime," She released his face, and brought her foot back. "Sleep." A fast moving high heeled shoe was the last thing Sam saw before unconsciousness claimed him.

* * *

><p>Demons were waiting for them. As soon as Meg and Castiel had arrived at the crypt where the demon tablet was hidden, they had been ambushed. Meg was almost disturbingly agile with a blade; her clothes became even more stained the longer she fought, and Castiel slaughtered demons left and right with just a small touch, but it was still tiring.<p>

Sam was right in staying back with Kevin. He wouldn't have had a chance against these odds, and Kevin would have managed to get captured along the way. That was probably what the demons were hoping for, and Castiel wasn't too upset about disappointing them.

After strenuous hours of fighting, Castiel and Meg had managed to pull off a miracle, and they came out victorious. Meg reached for the tablet, but Castiel took it before she had the chance to even touch it.

"C'mon, Clarence, we just had a little moment back there. Don't you trust me to hold on to one little tablet?"

"That 'little moment' you're referring to was us slaughtering innocent humans. No, I don't trust you with 'one little tablet.'" Castiel tucked it inside his pocket, which then began playing music. He pulled out the cell phone Sam had insisted he get, and 'Kevin' flashed across the caller ID. Castiel hadn't even said 'hello' before Kevin started frantically spouting nonsense on the other end.

"Castiel! Some guy fell out of our closet, turns out he's Sam's grandpa, but then some lady came out after him and said Henry had to give her something, and Sam tried to stab her, but she didn't die! How could she not die?!"

"Kevin-"

"But then Sam threw holy water on her, and Henry and I managed to get out in time, but she got Sam!"

Castiel's feeling of triumph faded in an instant. "Where are you now?"

"I-I kinda stole a car, and I'm driving the car, t-the one I stole and-"

With Meg beside him, Castiel popped up in the backseat, and Kevin nearly veered off the road in surprise. "D-Don't do that!"

"My apologies." Castiel said sincerely. "Now, tell me what happened to Sam."

* * *

><p>Guess who's back? *Echoes back, back…* Back again? *Echoes gain, gain…* Yeah, I kinda love Abbadon, and I also love tortured Sam, so that's coming back. I've even got a little sneak preview at the end of this author's note. Drop a review if y'all've got time, and I'll be back with another chapter ASAP!<p>

**Sneak Peek: **"But I find some things a little-" The gleam of a knife caught his eye as she twirled it between her fingers. "Confusing…"


	11. So In the End Now

AN: Sammysmissingshoe, your Sam girl is showing. *Giggles manically* Oh, I know. I know… Look at me, guys! Three chapters in one week! That's more like it!

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><p>"I love the future." Was the first thing Sam heard as he woke up. He tried to hold his aching head, but his arms were fastened together behind him with coarse rope. "But I find some things a little-" The gleam of a knife caught his eye as Josie twirled it between her fingers. "Confusing. Would you be a dear and show me what I've missed?"<p>

Black smoke trickled from her mouth, and rushed directly towards Sam. He clenched his jaw tightly, but the demon's essence just pried it open and tried to force itself down his throat. When he felt it shoved out of him due to his anti-possession tattoo, he visibly relaxed. He sucked in air and coughed once he was finally free.

When the smoke ran back into Josie's body, her bright red lips were no longer pulled into a wide smile. "What's that all about? Hmm?"

Clamping his jaw stubbornly, Sam remained quiet. Screeching in anger, Josie raised her hand as though she were about to strike Sam, but then she calmly lowered it with her chilling smile plastered back on her face. "You're a hunter, which means you've probably got yourself a nice little 'no demons allowed' tattoo, am I right?" Her smile widened when she saw Sam's small twitch. "Thought so. Now I just get have myself a friendly, little scavenger hunt."

Her fingers brushed against his head, gently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear in a mockery of tenderness. They continued tracing lower; down his collarbone, past his pectorals, and down his ribcage, pausing just above the waistband of his jeans. The slight widening of Sam's eyes didn't get past her.

"You hiding something under here, maybe?"

Before her fingers could move another millimeter, Sam reared his legs back to kick her off him, but she simple held her hand out, and an invisible force struck him to the ground, his bound hands digging painfully into his back.

"Down, boy." She chastised with a light slap to his cheek. It didn't hurt, but the action was so humiliating, so demeaning, and yet he could do nothing to stop it.

"Not down there… Up here maybe?" With a yank on the top button of his flannel shirt, she was greeted with the V-neck he was wearing underneath.

Calmly picking up the knife she'd discarded, she tore open the shirt, being careful not to cut his skin.

"Well look at that." She tapped the tattoo above his heart with a manicured fingernail. "You've got all sorts of surprises under these layers." The other hand's fingers traced the definite outline of his well-defined abs. "Not sure what you're trying to hide."

Sam wanted to say something, _anything, _just to prove that he wasn't going to just accept this so easily. But he'd been in this position for too many centuries; he'd been submissive to pain for far too long to try and deny its inevitability now.

Knife in hand, Josie pressed the tip of the blade just above the tattoo, fully prepared to take her time with its removal.

"The waiting was always your least favourite part, wasn't it, Sammy?" Lucifer giggled from the corner. "Guess that's why it was always my favourite." Of course he had to be here right now. Sam was almost ready to welcome the pain if at least made Lucifer leave him alone for a while.

Gladly accepting his invitation, the pain greeted him with intensity far worse than he'd anticipated. The blade dug into his flesh until it was slicing the muscles below, yet this demon knew the human body well enough to avoid hitting anything vital.

Despite his best efforts to remain stoic, Sam lurched up, a primal scream torn from his throat. Sweat glistened off his forehead as Josie's power shoved him back to the floor. She gave the blade a little twist, and Sam moaned in pain; his body fought so hard against the force pinning him to the ground. As if moving might lessen the agony, but he was held steady.

"You've been holding out on me." She said over his pathetic noises. "You have a lovely voice. I can't wait to see what your head is like." With that said, smoke slipped past her lips, and jammed itself down Sam's throat; his tattoo now utterly helpless to protect him any longer. "Now, show me what you've seen." Her voice commanded.

Memories of his life began flashing through his head like snapshots from a family photo album, but they came and went far too fast, and Sam felt himself weakening at the bombardment of images. Even worse was when his more recent memories came to pass; blood, fire, Dean, unending pain, Dean causing him unending pain. It finally all became too much, and Sam finally passed out once more.

* * *

><p>"Who is the demon who took Sam?" Castiel interjected after Henry was through explaining how he had gotten to this time period, but he had still left the most prominent question unanswered.<p>

"Her name is Abbadon. It is my fault that she has come here." Henry admitted shamefully.

"Abbadon? I've heard that name before. She is a Knight of Hell."

"Since when does Hell need knights?" Kevin asked.

"They are handpicked my Lucifer himself." Henry clarified. "But I had thought that arch angels had wiped them all out."

"Maybe she's the last one." Kevin suggested.

"How do you know about angels and knights?" Castiel inquired.

"Surely Sam has mentioned his legacy."

"What legacy?" Meg, Kevin, and Castiel all asked in unison.

"Being a man of letters."

Confused silence fell over the car, before Meg finally spoke up. "A what?"

"He-he is a man of letters, isn't he?"

"Nope." Meg answered quickly, almost callously. "He's a hunter, and not a half bad one either. Although he did kinda start the apocalypse."

"This- this cannot be." Henry said in disbelief. "John was meant to raise him as a man of letters. Unless… I don't come home to John and tell him." Henry looked up at Castiel, hoping to find that his thoughts weren't true.

"I'm sorry," Castiel comforted sincerely. "But this is what's happened."

"You still haven't told us what makes your boys club so special there, Ace." Meg pointed out. "Or what the hell you're doing here."

Henry reached into his pocket, and pulled out an old looking box with a strange symbol engraved on it. "Many great men lost their lives trying to protect this, and I am going to make sure that their sacrifices were not in vain."

"What's in the box?" Meg asked with a fairly decent Brad Pitt impression.

"I don't know." Henry admitted as he stowed it back into his pocket.

"Well, there's gotta be some-" Kevin was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. 'Sam' flashed across the screen. "It's Sam!" Kevin declared eagerly.

Fumbling with the buttons for a moment, Castiel managed to answer it, and put it on speakerphone.

"Sam?" Henry called out hopefully.

A feminine chuckle on the other end dashed everyone's hopes. "Nope. Much sexier. Try again."

"Abbadon." Henry breathed out.

"Good boy. Now, you hand yourself over, along with the box, or else your _grandson's _dead. He's already pretty miserable over here, no matter how much I try to cheer him up. Isn't that right, Sammy?" There was a very brief pause, followed by a hoarse scream; Sam's hoarse scream. Her laugh was heard again, and then her warning. "Don't keep me waiting." The phone clicked, marking the end of the call.

"We need to get Sam back." Castiel said without a moment's hesitation.

"We cannot let her get her hands on this box." Henry argued.

"You mean the one you don't even know anything about?" Meg remarked.

"If we could just buy some time-"

"You heard her, Henry." Castiel interrupted. "She is going to continue torturing Sam unless we give her what she wants."

"Or if she _thinks _we give her what she wants." Kevin suggested slyly.

"What are you proposing we do?" Henry asked. Kevin's phone went off again, a text message this time, revealing the address where she and Sam would be waiting.

"We've got two people here that Abbadon doesn't know about. I can take you to Abbadon while Castiel and Meg find out what's up with the box."

"How?" Meg asked.

"Are there any men of letters left?" Kevin asked Henry. "Anyone you could talk to about it?"

"There may have been some that survived Abbadon's attack, but how will we be able to find out?"

"Sam's got his computer in the back."

Henry- laughed? "You couldn't possibly fit a computer in a car."

"Welcome to 2012, dude. We gotta stop somewhere with Wi-Fi."

"Diner up ahead." Meg pointed at the sign, and Kevin pulled into the lot.

After ordering some food so that it didn't seem like they were only there for the internet service, Kevin started clacking away on the keyboard. "Give me some names."

Henry listed off some names of potential survivors, but when Kevin's results brought up the name 'Albertus Magnus', his interest was piqued.

"That name," Henry explained. "It's the one men of letter use when going incognito. This could be a lead."

"Meg and I will follow it," Castiel agreed, then added, "But you and Kevin need to go find Sam."

"How are we gonna do that if we can't kill Abbadon?" Kevin questioned.

"I have an idea." Henry announced. "But it will be dangerous for both of us, Kevin."

Kevin scoffed. "I have a feeling I'm gonna have to get used to dangerous. What's the plan?"

* * *

><p>Nearly lost this chapter due to a spazz attack my computer had, so thank God for auto-save. One more review and my record for most reviews will be broken. Who wants to be the lucky record breaker? Any takers? Well, drop a review if y'all got the time, and I'll see you guys soon!<p> 


	12. What Have We Gained?

AN: Okay, so this chapter was written over a period of like one and a half weeks, so it's kinda disconnected and filler-y, so sorry about that, but I tried to make the chapter longer to make up for it. Hope y'all enjoy!

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><p>Luckily for him, Sam was still unconscious at the moment. Abbadon would have hated for him to be bored, and she would have used her own methods of entertainment to keep him occupied.<p>

Abbadon was patient when she had to be. When she was waiting for a victim to scream? She was patient. Removing Sam's tattoo? She was patient. Digging through his mind to access his memories? She was patient. Waiting for Henry and the boy, Kevin, to show up with the box? Then she was not so patient.

But she had seen some rather unexpected things in Sam's head. It wasn't just typical hunter memories, but there were images of Hell and Lucifer amongst everything else. But the one thing above all else that had caught her eye, was his brother. The Winchesters certainly had an interesting family history, but their present situation was what intrigued her the most. Sam's brother, Dean, had apparently turned into a demon after spending centuries in dear old Luci's Cage. But what she wasn't so happy about was the fact that he was trying to obtain Hell's crown.

Who the hell gave him the right? He wasn't chosen by Lucifer himself to become what he is; he just turned. He may think that he's special because of where he became a demon, but he was nothing compared to Abbadon. If anyone deserved the throne, it was her.

Besides being patient, Abbadon was also smart, almost scarily so. She wasn't going to outright challenge Dean, she was going to take her time. She would work under his thumb for as long as it took, and as soon as Dean's back is turned, she'll swipe the throne right out from under his lifeless corpse.

Using the blood that still steadily trickled from Sam's chest, she let it flow into a cup, occasionally shoving her fingers into the wound to increase the blood flow, making Sam moan in his unconscious state. Abbadon's native tongue slipped past her lips, and Sam's blood began bubbling in the cup. She waited for a moment before she heard what she could only assume was Dean Winchester's voice.

"You rang?"

"Hello, Dean." Josie's dark lipstick made her teeth appear eerily white when she smiled. "I hear you're the one I have the honour of calling my king."

"Call me whatever the hell you want, but what should I call you?"

"My name is Abbadon, the only living Knight of Hell. Have you heard of me?"

"I'd rather hear why you decided to take up the king's valuable time with this dumbass introduction."

"Busy man I see. I'd just like to offer my services to you. I've even got your baby brother all nice and trussed up at my feet right now." She nudged Sam's midsection with her foot at that statement. "I'm more than willing to hand him over to you."

Dean's side of the call went quiet for a moment. "And what are you asking for in return?"

"I'm a kiss-up, pretty boy. I grant you a favour, I'm simply expecting you to return it someday."

"What kind of favour we talking here?"

Abbadon chuckled. "Guess I'll have to see what comes up. I'll give Sam over once I finish my personal business with him. He's an important bargaining chip. See you soon, darling."

The throne was as good as hers.

* * *

><p>"Not sure about you," Kevin remarked to Henry after hearing his ridiculously suicidal plan. "But I've never decapitated a Knight of Hell before. I've never decapitated anyone!"<p>

"When your life is on the line, I am sure you will find the strength to do your part." Henry assured.

"We've only got one devil's trap bullet. You could get seriously hurt, or even killed, Henry."

"That is a risk I will have to take." Henry admitted soberly. "I believe we are here. Put these on me." Henry handed Kevin a pair of handcuffs.

Reluctance showed on Kevin's face, mixing with confusion. "Uhh…"

"We have to make this look real to Abbadon if we are going to fool her. I will be able to get out of them. Trust me. We must hurry."

Henry and Kevin got out of the car, and Kevin fastened the handcuffs on Henry's wrists behind his back. They entered the warehouse, and the smell of blood hit them instantly.

Abbadon hovered over Sam's body, which was just littered with cuts. There was a gushing wound where his tattoo had once been, and he was barely conscious. Abbadon grabbed Sam by the hair, and yanked his head up, and his face scrunched up in silent pain. "Hello, boys. Say 'hi', Sam."

"Eat me." Sam ground out. He winced when Abbadon tightened her hold, but then let him drop to the floor with a thud.

"I hope you boys brought the box." She chided.

Kevin pulled out the box, making a show of putting in in Henry's jacket, but then nonchalantly slid it out, replacing it with a deck of playing cards instead. "Now, let Sam go."

"My only interest is Henry and the box." Abbadon lied with an all too convincing smile. "You two are free to go." She yanked Sam up again by the back of his collar, and spoke in a low voice, only for him to hear. "You've been a fun boy to play with, but you can go back to hunting for your demonic brother now." She gave him a harsh shove forward, he stumbled, but then he regained his footing.

As Sam passed Henry on his walk over to Kevin, he uttered a sincere apology. "Henry, I'm sorry."

"Save it." Henry growled, simply to keep up appearances of course. Henry silently worked the cuffs until he felt them slip off.

Kevin cut Sam loose, and turned to the door, when it suddenly slammed shut. "We had a deal!" Kevin shouted ash he whipped back around to face Abbadon.

Abbadon laughed once more. "Surprise. I lied." Without another word, she thrust her hand straight through Henry's chest.

"Henry!" Sam yelled as he hurried to go aid Henry, but was stopped as Kevin put his arm out.

"Wait." Kevin ordered in a hushed voice.

Henry's face was twisted in pain, but a bloody smile formed on his lips as his freed hands reached into his back pocket. "You're not the only one." And he shot Abbadon right below her jaw.

Assuming that was what he was supposed to wait for, Sam then rushed to Henry's side, easing him to the floor as he no longer had the ability to support himself.

Shaking her head to clear the blow, Abbadon whooped. "Whoo! What a blast! Now give me the box." She plucked the box from Henry's pocket, but when she saw that it wasn't what she was looking for, she shrieked in agitation. "Where is it?!"

No one answered, and she growled in anger. "Okay," She said in a suddenly scarily calm voice. "We'll do this the hard way." Her smoke slipped past her lips not more than two inches, before it was forced back into her body. She tried again, but it ended with the same result. She roared in pure ire. "Why am I stuck?!"

Albeit weakly, Henry was smiling, but Kevin was the one to answer her. "Devil's trap carved into a bullet. You're not going anywhere."

Sure Abbadon was pissed as hell, but she wasn't going to let it show, so she laughed. "You still didn't kill me." She pointed out with a grin.

"Maybe not, but you'll wish we had." Producing a machete, Kevin aimed to swing down the blade on her, but then the door to the warehouse flew open. No, scratch that, it completely caved in. Beneath the obliterated door stood a man Kevin had never seen before, but he had those black eyes Kevin felt all too familiar with.

"Hey, Sammy." The man greeted with a disturbingly friendly wave.

On a disbelieving breath, Sam blew out, "Dean?"

"Heard my baby brother got himself nabbed again. I just stopped by to come and get you, as usual. You could say you're welcome, you know."

"Kevin, run!" Sam commanded as he scrambled to his feet, taking most of Henry's weight with him.

Silently pleading that no one would stop him, Kevin obeyed Sam's instruction and headed for the back exit. Dean was having none of that, and he flicked his finger and threw Kevin to the wall, knocking him unconscious.

"Dean," Sam tried to reach some sense of humanity inside of his brother. "You got me, alright? Just let them go. Please."

"Now, not that I'm not a fan of hearing Sam here beg," Abbadon butted in. "But I'd like to know why you're here." She said as she gestured to Dean. "I was more than happy to hand your brother to you once I was through with him."

"Here's my issue with that." Dean retorted. "I'm the king. I ain't gonna sit around waiting for some low level demon to haggle for some godforsaken reason, with my brother as insurance. If I want my brother, I'm getting him. I'm not a sharer, sweetheart."

"And I'm not one who likes to have my plans interrupted." She countered.

Using their bickering as a distraction, Sam managed to reach the machete that Kevin had dropped. Without drawing her attention, Sam rushed up and lobbed off Abbadon's head. And God forgive him, because he turned around, and he threw it right at Dean. The blade lodged itself into Dean's chest, just above his right pectoral. Dean yelled in pain, and dropped to his knees.

Trying to block out the sound and his feelings of regret, Sam draped Henry's arm over his shoulder, and then hurried over to Kevin, who was already beginning to come to, and then they ran.

"Y-Your brother's a demon?" Kevin slurred.

"Later. C'mon, we gotta move." Sam urged as he laid Henry in the back, and Kevin sat beside him. The car's tires screeched as Sam stepped on the gas, and sped the hell outta dodge, simply praying that Dean would busy himself with the machete and Abbadon long enough for them to make their escape.

"How's he doing back there, Kevin?" Sam asked as he glanced in the rearview mirror.

Lifting his eyes up, Kevin just shook his head.

"You-" Henry called out weakly. "It appears as though you have a lot to deal with."

"It won't be so bad if you could stick around to help, Henry." Sam tried to encourage him.

Henry laughed humourlessly. "I can die happy knowing that my legacy will live on through you, Sam." His shaky hand reached into Kevin's pocket, where the real box was, and he handed it to Sam. "I only wish I'd lived to find out what this was." His words drifted into a coughing fit. "G-Good luck, Sam." And then there was nothing but dead silence in the car.

Eventually, Sam had called Cas and told him what had happened. Castiel informed him that inside the box was the key to the Men of Letters' bunker in Lebanon, Kansas. They'd agreed on meeting there… But not until after Sam buried Henry.

* * *

><p>"I got a feeling," Dean's voice was strained as he slowly removed the blade from his chest while he scolded Abbadon's unmoving body. "That you can still hear me, so you're gonna listen." Dean grunted in pain when the blade was finally pulled loose with a sickening squelch.<p>

"You seem to got a little attitude problem, and that doesn't roll over that well with me." At the word 'roll', Dean gave Abbadon's head a little kick, sending it tumbling across the floor.

"So," He continued. "I'm thinking that I get some of my more loyal followers to fix you, and they'll teach you what it means to serve under Dean Winchester's rule. And they'll make damn sure that you don't ever try to defy me again. How's that sound?"

For obvious reasons, Abbadon didn't answer.

"No objections?" Dean chuckled. "Awesome. Well, might as well put this blood to use again. Still looks like there's enough for one more call." He casually strolled over to the still glistening red cup. He was about to make the call, but then he stopped. He put the cup under his nose, and he inhaled deeply, followed by working his tongue along the rim of the glass. Sam's blood was a familiar and temptingly inviting taste. Dean swallowed in the teasing sample while muttering a silent promise.

"Soon, Sammy… Soon."

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><p>Yeah, don't mind me with my sexually dark last paragraph. That was for you Dean girls, so you're welcome. I honestly don't know why my muse works the way she does, but hey, I gotta love her sometimes. If you're liking her too, drop a review. Feedback is always appreciated. See y'all as soon!... I hope.<p> 


	13. Sanctus Espiritus

AN: Thanks to all the followers and favouriters out there! Chapter title translates to 'Holy Spirit.' So, y'all know I've got a soft spot for Megstiel, but there's always been this secret little ship buried in my heart, and it comes with a super cruel headcanon. But don't worry, there won't be actual romance, just poking fun at it.

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><p>"This the place?" Sam stood before the supposed bunker, idly turning the box in his hands. His fingernails still had dirt caking underneath them from his burial of Henry. It wasn't fair that he had had to give his life for Sam's.<p>

"It's a gigantic secret-y building, Sammy." Meg teased. "What else would this be?"

Taking the key out of the box, Sam approached the door, giving the key a twist, and curiosity swept over him with intensity as the door swung open. The room was dark, but when the lights were turned on, Sam was in awe. "Son of a bitch…"

Remarkable was the first word that came to Sam's mind, promptly followed by, _"Holy crap, this place is incredible! How the hell has no one ever heard of it before?" _He was kind of excited.

"Holy crap!" Kevin was a lot more vocal with his astonishment.

"Damn." Meg commented with a whistle at the impressive interior of the building. "I can't go anywhere in this place." She pointed to a door. "Can't go in there." Another door. "Or there." Another. "Nope." Again. "Not that I'm hating on your new digs, but this place is kinda racist."

Warding was everywhere. Devil's traps, ancient symbols, archaic texts in languages Sam had never seen before. This truly was the motherload of protection against every kind of evil Sam had ever faced.

"This place," Castiel said. "Is incredible."

"Yeah, as long as you ignore my limited range of mobility." Meg noted. "You boys can go ahead and explore your little nerd-nest; I'll just stay somewhere where I won't get my ass stuck in a devil's trap."

"I guess I've finally got a safe place to start looking over the demon tablet then." Kevin supposed. "Even though I've never actually looked at the thing before and have no idea how to read it."

"It may take time," Explained Cas. "But your skills are a prophet will come in naturally."

Kevin scoffed. "'Naturally'… Cuz all of this is just the natural-est thing."

"Kevin-"

"I know, I know." Kevin grumbled, setting down his backpack and pulling out the tablet. His eyes squinted, and his brain began buzzing as it tried to make sense of the foreign symbols before him. He would have heard Sam and Castiel venturing off to further explore, but he was completely focused on the matter at hand right as of now.

The letters, or words, whatever they were, started shaking as though they were having a seizure. Kevin's head hurt like a bitch of a migraine, but then a single word formed at the top of the tablet: Demon.

"I can read it." He whispered, and then he shot his head up. "I can read it!" He proclaimed with exhilaration.

"Isn't reading supposed to be a quiet thing?" Meg asked with clear annoyance at Kevin's outburst. She'd begun busying herself with looking through the impressive stack of porn magazines those boy scouts had gathered over the years. "This place just got a whole lot more interesting.

Kevin hadn't been listening. More and more words began forming, until he was looking at- a definition? There was a definition for a demon?

"_A soul that had once been human, but had become corrupted over time, and turned into one of Lucifer's children."_

"Human soul?" Kevin muttered.

"What?" Meg asked.

"You used to be a human?"

Meg's usually apathetic face hid a mask of anger at Kevin's invasive question. "Yeah. So?"

"How'd you turn?"

"There's lots of pointy things in Hell. It's not that hard to be motivated down there."

"Do you remember being human?"

"No." She snapped. "Humanity's got no place in Hell. They make sure you never remember who you used to be once you turn."

"Could you remember if you tried?"

"Don't know. Never cared enough to."

"Maybe you-"

Meg cut him off. "Maybe you should get back to your stone."

Okay, boundaries had definitely been overstepped, and Kevin could tell. He turned his head back to the tablet; questions were buzzing inside his head, but they would most likely never be voiced.

* * *

><p>"Dean would've loved this place." Sam said with a hint of remorse in his voice. Oh, how he missed his brother. For him, it had been centuries since he'd really seen <em>Dean.<em>

"Yes, he would have enjoyed having a permanent home." Castiel agreed, but he was caught off guard by Sam scoffing. "What?"

"We don't do homes, Cas. He's never been the type of guy to settle down. Ask any girl he's slept with."

"I'm sure he would not object to the chance of having a home if given the opportunity."

"We've had one house out entire lives. It didn't really work out last time, so I wouldn't start putting up the 'Hang in there' kitty posters yet."

Continuing the rest of their exploration in silence, Sam and Castiel found themselves in front of a bookshelf, but a draft was gently blowing through the windowless room. Taking a chance, Sam gave the bookcase a good push, and it opened, revealing a hidden room behind it.

Chains and threatening instruments hung from the walls, swinging ominously with menacing clangs. The unexpectedness of the sight was far too much far too suddenly for Sam's fragile mind, and he collapsed on the ground in a series of convulsions.

Over the sounds of Lucifer's whispering taunts and mocks, Sam heard Cas calling out for him, trying to regain his attention, but his mind was overrun with memories at the instant. All Sam could see was Lucifer working a sickle under his fingernails, taking his time with peeling the skin off along with them.

"Please, Sam," Sam wanted to follow Cas's voice with every fibre of his being, anything to take him away from where he was now. "Whatever you are seeing, it isn't real."

"But it sure feels real," Lucifer mocked as he gave Sam's finger a harsh twist, the definite wrong way. "Doesn't it, Sammy?"

"Sam!" Finally, Cas's voice became the only one Sam heard. "Are you alright now?" He asked as he tried to aid Sam to his feet.

Embarrassed by his random attack, and particularly demeaned by Cas having to help him stand, Sam brushed off Cas's hands. "Yeah, I'm fine… So…" Might as well try to lighten the mood. "Looks like we got a dungeon."

"It would appear so."

"Could come in handy if we ever get our hands on Crowley."

"Or Dean." Castiel suggested, almost immediately regretting it when Sam paused, as though he was hesitant to have Dean anywhere near him.

"Sure, Cas." Sam finally concurred, but even Castiel could tell that he wasn't completely sincere in saying it.

Part of Castiel wanted to say something- anything that could potentially give Sam hope, but the matter would have to be put to rest until another time. At least for now.

At that moment, Sam's cellphone began to ring. A name Sam hadn't thought of in a scarily long time lit up on the screen. He eagerly flipped the phone open. "Bobby!"

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><p>The demon possessing Bobby Singer's corpse gruffed its way through tales it pretended to have heard about Sam's return. Sam appeared to be buying its BS, and when the demon mentioned something about a hoard of demons that required Sam's help, he promised that he'd be right over.<p>

'Bobby' hung up the phone, only to turn it over to another call.

"Mr. Crowley? Yeah, Sam bought it. The trap's all set, sir."

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><p>Head burning with the reality of everything that was happening, Kevin had needed to take a break; as well as a couple dozen breaths into a paper bag. Everything that was occurring was just unbelievable.<p>

Footsteps rushing towards him finally lowered his anxiety levels, and snapped him back to the present. "What's going on?"

"Demons." Sam answered. "Bigtime. Got a call from a friend who needs some help."

"I'll go with you." Meg offered.

Surprise and shock fell over everyone else's faces at her proposal.

"What?" She asked. "Not like I can even walk anywhere in this place anyway."

"You almost killed him once." Sam remarked, still obviously wary of the idea of having her around.

"Key word being almost, Sammy. Would you rather leave me here with the kid and the stone that could potentially wipe out my entire species?"

"Not a kid." Kevin protested, barely lifting his eyes off the tablet. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Clarence could use some rest anyway." Meg gestured to Cas with her head.

"I'm fine." Castiel insisted. How like a Winchester. "But someone should stay behind with Kevin." Noticing that Kevin was about to protest again, he added, "You were breathing into a bag a few moments ago."

Huffing, Kevin finally caved. "Fine. Guess it's just me and the angel."

"Leaves me and Sammy the chance to catch up. Wonder how much that pretty little head's changed since I last visited it."

Sam winced. "That's just creepy."

Smirking, Meg made her way up the stairs, Sam trudging closely behind her. The pair hopped into the car; the engine hummed, and then they were off.

Music flowed through the car, and if not for the radio, there would have been nothing but awkward stillness between the two of them.

"Kid's gotta learn to watch his mouth." Meg spoke up out of nowhere, almost making Sam jump in surprise at the break in the quiet.

"What kid? You mean Kevin?" At her nod, Sam continued. "What makes you say that?"

"Found out what demons are…" She paused, she looked almost- sad- for a moment, just a moment. "What we _were. _Tried to ask me if I remembered who I was."

Not knowing how to respond for a moment, Sam went soft again, but then he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Do you? Remember?"

Meg quirked an eyebrow up at him. "Why do you care?"

"Well, you already know everything about me. I might be a lot more willing to trust you if I knew a single damn thing about you."

"Hi, I'm Meg. I'm a demon. I don't like Hell. Happy?"

"Would it kill you to-"

"Probably." She interrupted with a grin.

Nostrils flaring in annoyance, Sam shut up again and just focused on his driving. Sioux Falls couldn't come fast enough.

When it finally did come, Sam was looking forward to being able to save people again. Ever since he'd gotten back, everything he'd done had been for the sake of trying to find out Hell's secrets, or trying to clean up Cas's mess. This time, he'd really be saving people again.

For the first time, everything felt okay.

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><p>AN: Yeah, that's gonna last, Sammy. So, y'all find my secret ship yet? Here's a hint; It's Sam and Meg. Weird, I know, but it's the only relatively romantic aspect I've ever contributed to this show. Don't worry; no real romance will ever occur here. At least not in this story. Okay, so you've probably heard the rumour that reviewing gets chapters posted faster, and I'll let you in on something; It's true. At least for me. When I know that people are enjoying, I'm a lot more pressured to get the chapter up before too much time passes. Reviews have cured serious writer's block in the past, so if there's something you'd like to see, I'd love to hear it and I'll see if I can get it put in, but no guarantees. Aaannnndd I've rambled for too long. Oh well. See you soon guys! Really though, reviews are motivation. Thanks for reading!<p> 


	14. Insanity Is All Around US

AN: Alright, who's up for some heart wrenching head-canons and agonizing angst? Everyone is? Well perfect, cuz that's what you're getting! Enjoy!

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><p>"He ain't gonna be happy to see me, ya know." Meg remarked as she and Sam stood outside Bobby's door. "Kinda seems like the type to hold a grudge for attempted murder."<p>

Agreeing, Sam suggested, "You wait here for a minute while I explain to him what's going on. Don't come in any sooner or you'll get a faceful of holy water."

"Waiting it is." Meg made herself a little too comfortable on Bobby's porch, but at least she wouldn't be seen when Bobby opened the door.

Greeted with holy water to the face, Sam was glad he was 'home.' Bobby pulled him into a hug, a tight one. Bobby smelled of gunpowder and whiskey, as always. Although the whiskey scent was a lot stronger than usual, but Sam couldn't really blame him.

Amongst the usual smell of Bobby and his house, there was something else lingering into Sam's nose, just as familiar, but he just couldn't place it at the moment.

"It's good to see you, boy." Bobby said sincerely, with a slight quake of disbelief in his voice.

Sam was smiling, honest to God smiling. "You too, Bobby."

"How'd you manage to get out of that lock box?"

"Cas pulled me out. Long story." The embrace eventually stopped, and Sam spoke before Bobby could start asking more questions. "Long story for another time. Talk to me about the demons."

"They're everywhere around town lately. Not sure what's got 'em so excited, but there's killings left and right. Bout damn time I had some backup again."

"About that… Someone came along to help."

"Well I know it ain't your brother. Real sorry to hear what happened to him, but you got any clue on how to get him back yet?"

Solemnly, Sam shook his head. "Not yet. But I'm working on it." Lie. "Alright, you're not gonna like who I brought, but you're gonna have to trust me, okay?"

"You jumped into Hell to save the world, kid, course I trust you."

Pushing a steady breath out of his mouth, Sam just got it over with. "It's Meg."

In response, Bobby- growled? "I thought I smelled a whore." Bobby's eyes turned to that empty, obsidian shade of a demon.

Crap! Before Sam could manage to reach the demon killing blade, two more demons jumped out at him and tackled him to the floor, pinning down his arms. "Meg, r-!" He tried to yell out a warning, but one of the demons swiftly and cruelly punched him in the throat, effectively silencing him. His breaths came out in wracked heaves and gasps; he could barely breathe, calling out a warning was just out of the question.

Maybe he'd gotten lucky and Meg had sensed the danger. Winchester luck, of course, had decided to kick in, and he watched helplessly as Meg was dragged into the house by two other demons, blood leaking from a cut on her lip. Dammit.

The demons holding Sam yanked him to his feet, and he coughed quite a few more times, his air intake barely meeting its minimal qualifications.

"B-bobby," Sam wheezed. "Y-you can fight 'im. D-done it before…"

"Thing about that, Sammy," The Bobby demon explained as it lifted his shirt, revealing an infected, festering, but most importantly, _fatal _wound on his gut. "Ain't nobody in here to fight."

Every failure, every mistake, every damn loss suddenly came rushing out of the darkened corner of Sam's mind, and his mental volcano erupted in an unforgiving and angry explosion.

Despite barely being able to breathe, Sam's rush of rage fueled adrenaline gave him the energy to break out of the demon's grip, and he charged at the Bobby demon. It may have been reckless to charge a demon without his weapon, but it didn't stop him from swinging his fist directly towards Bobby's jaw.

Expecting the attack, Bobby's hand lashed out and caught Sam's, then painfully twisted it behind his back, forcing him to his knees. He then proceeded to pluck Ruby's knife from Sam's jacket.

As Sam went to fight his way free, his vision flashed white at the sickening pop of his shoulder being dislocated under the demon's unyielding grip. A strangled gasp was the only sound he was capable of making. Up until the demon shoved the knife through Sam's already mangled shoulder, and he _screamed. _

Just because she was a demon, it didn't mean Meg was unsympathetic towards Sam's suffering. She winced at the distinct snap of his shoulder, and then noticeably retracted when he let out that pained cry after being stabbed. As the demon possessing Sam's friend continued to mock him, she realized just how big of assholes her species really was.

"Know what makes this even better, Sam?" It taunted. It leaned in, wrongly close to Sam's ear, its voice sounding so much like Bobby's, but the words were so much crueler. "It was your brother who killed him."

Past all of the pain he was currently in, Sam choked on a disbelieving breath, in complete denial of the slightest possibility that that could be true.

"Don't matter if you believe me or not. He's dead, and you're gonna have to live with it. Well," The blade previously embedded in his shoulder was ripped out with a repulsive squelch. "Live ain't really the right word." The demon lifted the knife above its head, poised to swing it down on Sam, when Meg suddenly broke free, and took the blade for him, right through her lower abdomen.

Using their shock as a distraction, Meg shuddered as the special blade's power coursed pain through her body, and then quickly stabbed the demon possessing Bobby. Blood was slipping past her wound in a steady flow, and she felt herself dizzying buy the second, but she pressed forward, stabbing all the demons she could before the pain became too much, and she crumpled to the ground.

Determined, albeit weak, Sam swiped the knife from the floor with his left hand, and finished off the remaining demons, anger being the only thing keeping him moving.

Chest heaving with exhaustion, Sam dropped the blade to the ground, and then hurried over to where Meg lay, clutching her bleeding stomach. Very heavily bleeding stomach… Oh, no, there was too much blood.

"Meg, hey, look at me." Sam commanded as he put his hands on her cheek. She really just saved his life, and she was most likely going to lose her own in the process.

Blood trickled past Meg's lips as she forced a pained smile. "B-being the good guy sucks."

"No, no it doesn't. You're gonna be fine. We'll just get you back to the bunker, and Cas'll fix you up, okay?"

The boy was determined, so Meg decided to humour him. "Sure, Sammy."

Relief washed over Sam's face at her acceptance. "Alright, I'm gonna move you now. Just stay as still as possible, got it?"

Without the strength for much else, Meg nodded.

Sam scooped up the knife, and then wrapped his arms under Meg's body, ignoring the flare up of his bad shoulder, and lifted her up. Despite her best efforts to remain quiet, she grunted in pain as the movement jostled her wound.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Sam comforted as he ran quickly, yet as gently as he could to the car, and he laid her down in the backseat. The tires screeched as he pressed down on the accelerator, and they hummed hurriedly across the road.

Noticing Meg was beginning to drift, Sam tried to keep her focused, and said the first thing that came to his mind. "Thanks, Meg. You-you saved my life back there."

"It-it better have be worth it." She ground out, almost playfully.

"I will, I promise." He wasn't sure what else to say, and as he opened his mouth to make something up, she spoke first.

"I r-remember."

"Remember what?" That's it, keep her talking.

"Being human… Who I used to be."

As heartbreaking as it must have been for her to think about, Sam had to keep asking questions to distract her. "Tell me."

Meg scoffed. "Trust me, Sammy, you don't want to know."

"Yes I do. Please, tell me about it."

Meg took a moment, gathering the words. "I was a blonde. A pretty one. Kinda annoyingly perky."

When she stopped, Sam pressed on. "Keep going."

"I even had a boyfriend. Smart. Cute. Nice hair. We lived together. He was planning on popping the question soon too."

"I-I'm sorry." It was hurting him just listening; he couldn't fathom how she must be feeling. But there was still quite a ways to go before they were in the clear, so kept her going. "How-how'd you die?" He waited for a minute, but she remained quiet. "Meg?" He urged.

Adverting her eyes from him, and she continued. "My boyfriend left for a few days. While he was gone, somebody broke into our apartment…"

She paused once more, and Sam forced himself to ask. "And?"

She lifted her head. "And they cut open my stomach and threw me to the ceiling so when my boyfriend got my home, my blood could drip onto his forehead."

O-oh, God, did that mean that she was… "J-Jess?"

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><p>Hope you like my little head-canon. If you hate it so much that you love it, let me know! See you guys soon.<p> 


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